Come Clean
by Terry
Summary: Claire loses her brother to a long standing illness. She stands on the edge of personal destruction and Leon will do everything he can to pull her back from the dangerous precipice. Completed.
1. That Which Is Lost

Authors Note: Dear Readers, I am taking a break from my current work (Three Days In a Nightmare) to publish this work here. I don't quite know what inspired me to write it but here it is nonetheless. I hope you enjoy and look out for future updates of Three Days In a Nightmare soon.

**Come Clean**

**Chapter 1: That Which Is Lost**

Officer Leon Kennedy pushed open the doors to the 24th Lansing Precient and stepped out into the bone-cutting cold of the late November afternoon. As soon as he was outside he could already feel the frigid air setting into the skin of his face, stealing away the feeling and bringing out the red in his cheeks. He smiled, it was cold but he didn't mind. He liked the freezing wind, and the snow on the ground and the sun in the sky. He liked having his life back on track.

'_I don't have to run anymore, I don't have to hide anymore.' _The cop thought, descending the stone steps to the station with one hand gripping his duffel bag and the other clenched tightly in his pocket. _'That's all behind me now. No more evil corporations. No more walking nightmares trying to have me for lunch. No more squatting like a fugitive in some rundown, roach motel. I can just be Officer Leon Kennedy again. God, it feels good to be able to say that.'_

As he hit the bottom of the staircase Leon supposed that his thoughts weren't entirely true. There would probably _always_ be evil corporations, companies willing to go to any length to turn a profit. There was no doubt in his mind that corporations who imposed child labor and environmental damage were terrible things but they couldn't really hold a torch to those that bred bio-organic killing machines in their basement. He shook his head it didn't matter though they were gone now. They were gone and he was free.

'_Six years.' _The young officer thought with a smile as he fished his car keys out of his pocket. Six years since the United States government had helped the small band of rebels dismantle the Umbrella Corporation. Six years since a daring raid on the company's European HQ had signaled the end of Umbrella and their insane science. Six years...it seemed like just yesterday he had been holed up in that run down, cardboard box of a hotel in Mexico waiting to receive word from Chris Redfield and the other ex-S.T.A.R.S. that it was safe to join them in Germany. Six years. It seemed like sixty.

With a jingle the keys to his Jeep came out of his jacket pocket, followed by a sharp, fiery pain that cut through his shoulder like a drill. Grimacing, he slowly rolled his shoulder and waited for the pain to recede. After a moment it did, as it had always done, but it served as unpleasant reminder of something else that had happened six years ago during that same, daring raid.

_'I was with John and David. We were walking down a corridor, cold and sterile. It reeked of harsh cleansers and it was giving me a headache. We all had weapons drawn, we tried so hard to be alert, to be on guard but we never saw the soldiers, dressed all in black, creep up through the hatch behind us. They cut us to pieces. I saw David drop first and then John was turning. He was down before he even got turned around and then I fell. It felt like someone had driven a spike of fire through my shoulder...just like when Annette Birkin shot me in the sewers below Raccoon.'_

Leon had taken two rounds through the shoulder, re-opening and further aggravating the wound he had suffered during his misadventure in Raccoon City. John Andrews and David Trapp hadn't been as lucky. They'd both been killed in the ambush, cut down before they could even raise their weapons. It had been six years since that day and the injury to his shoulder still caused him a great deal of pain. Not as much as the memory of his two dead friends but close.

_'It could have been worse.' _The officer reminded himself. '_If Chris and Barry hadn't shown up when they did I wouldn't be standing here today to complain about it. That_ _soldier was standing right over me, his sidearm square with my head, I couldn't move. Thank God for those two. I got lucky.' _

The screaming pain in his shoulder that he felt each day, along with the raw scar that accompanied it, would never let Leon forget how lucky he had been. Sometimes good memories came with the pain though. Memories about how after the raid on Umbrella's European HQ, accomplished with the help of an American military strike team, the United States government had cleared the names of all the rogues labeled as criminals by the corporation and its underlings. Government officials, corrupted by the insurmountable greed of the Umbrella Corporation were hastily routed out of office and given lengthy sentences.

After cleansing its own ranks of the filth of Umbrella, the government had done its best to compensate the rebels for their losses. Leon still had a great deal left over from what they had deposited in his bank account. Money certainly didn't help relieve any of the pain and suffering he had been forced to undergo, and he gladly would have returned every dime if it meant being able to turn back the clock, but knowing that the government had purchased your apartment and helped pay for your new Jeep was still a pleasant feeling. So was the knowledge that you could wake up and just go to work instead of having to prepare for another day of hiding and espionage.

Leon hit the bottom of the stairs and started for the parking lot. The pain in his shoulder forgotten, he smiled when he saw a familiar figure standing by his brand spanking new, midnight blue, Jeep. The auburn ponytail and knee-high leather boots a dead giveaway as to her identity.

"Hey Big Red." He said, giving the youngest Redfield sibling a toothy grin before tossing the duffel bag containing his change of clothes into the back of the Jeep. Normally, he would have slipped out of his uniform at the end of his shift but he'd felt that a shower should be in order first and the state of the department's facilities was simply detestable. "You're here early. I thought we weren't going to Windy O'Neil's Pub until later tonight? Jake doesn't get off for another two hours and Donna won't finish her shift at the hospital until..." Just then, Leon caught sight of her face and felt his heart skip a beat. "Oh my God. Claire, is something wrong?"

Clearly, something was. Her face, usually jovial and beaming was streaked with tears. Her gray eyes, normally vibrant and brimming with energy were red and swollen, dark bags of flesh hanging below them. Her red-brown hair, which she always kept so smooth and well combed, hung out in tufts of unkempt strands. Claire's shoulders shook inside the jacket she had on and Leon knew from her face that it had nothing to do with the cold Michigan weather.

"I..." Claire began and faltered, sniffing. Her tone sounded so strained, so hoarse. _'So broken'. _Leon thought as she opened her mouth again. "It's my brother. He's...he's sick again."

"Shit." Leon breathed, shaking his head sadly. Chris Redfield had been a casual smoker almost all his life, lighting up a butt whenever his nerves started to wear thin. Ever since the disastrous mission to the Spencer Estate though, it had become a regular habit of his, only growing worse as the crusade against the Umbrella Corporation grew longer and the team of rebels came closer to bringing about the titan's downfall. In the time Leon had spent with Claire's brother he had never once between without a cigarette between his lips.

A week before the raid on Umbrella's base in Germany the ex-S.T.A.R.S. marksman had been diagnosed with lung cancer. Everyone in the small group had recommended he sit the mission out but Chris would be damned if he'd let them finish what he had started. While he had survived the raid it certainly did no wonders for his condition and the man steadily grew worse. For six years he fought off the cancer running through his lungs but recently the visits to the hospital had become more and more frequent. Whenever the young cop had gone stopped by to check on him Claire had been at his side every time, looking torn but nowhere near as ragged as she did now.

"Is he back at Saint Jude's?" Leon asked giving the name of the hospital Chris Redfield had been receiving treatment at lately. If he was back there then things were bad. Saint Jude was the patron saint of lost causes and the patients the hospital took on certainly reflected that. There were more cancer wings in that building than he could remember.

"Yeah." Claire gave a week nod, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice was thin and terribly rough, like sandpaper scrapped over stone. "Jill called me a few minutes ago, she said he was having another coughing spell and then he just fell over in the living room so she called the paramedics and they're taking him back to Saint Jude's. I...I think she's there right now." Claire looked up at her friend, her gray eyes welling up with new tears, her voice cracking. "I...wouldn't bother you at work like this but my bike's in the shop and I knew I couldn't catch the bus in time and everyone left and...and...oh God! I know this is going to be it!"

The girl broke down, gripping the front of his uniform and pressing her face against Leon's chest as sobs shook her delicate shoulders. Leon didn't say he word, merely held the young woman against his chest by the same slender shoulders that shivered with each new sob. He smoothed out the wrinkles in her ponytail and tucked errant strands of auburn hair behind her ears. After a minute or so she inhaled deeply and dried her eyes with the palm of her hand.

"I'm sorry." Claire said weakly, pushing herself away. "I just wanted to know if I could bum a ride. I didn't mean to get so...so...I didn't mean to get snot all over your uniform." She offered him and weak smile.

"Hey, no problem." Leon chuckled. "I could use a change of clothes anyways, I bet you smelled me coming a mile away didn't you?" He sniffed one armpit and his nose crinkled with mock disgust. He was relieved to see Claire smile, even if it was just a slight tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"So...could you just drop me off at Saint Jude's?" She asked timidly. "You don't have to stay or anything. I...I just need to get down there quick. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to show up like this and bother you."

"Claire," Leon said sternly, holding the girl by the shoulders and lowering his face so that his eyes were level with hers. "You are _not _bothering me and I would be more than happy to give you a ride. Climb in."

Unlocking the passenger side door Leon gave his friend a hand in climbing up before circling around the vehicle and pulling himself into the driver's seat. Within moments they were cruising down the road to the opposite end of town where Saint Jude's Hospital lay. Leon glanced over and saw Claire nervously tugging at the hem of her skirt, eyes fixed straight ahead. He reached over with one hand and touched her shoulder, giving her as reassuring a smile as he could muster when she looked his way.

"Everything's going to be fine, alright?" He said, trying to sound soothing but afraid that he probably sounded just as worried as she had. "No matter what, everything's going to be fine."

Claire just nodded before turning her eyes back to the road and Leon knew that nothing he could say would give her any comfort. Not until she saw her brother at least. The youthful cop felt his heart go out to the girl as they drove on and she fidgeted with her skirt more.

In the six years he had known Claire Redfield he had always thought of her as his better. She was more intelligent than him, more quick-witted, more articulate, more...more everything. He often wondered if her heart was not composed half of gold and half of stone. She was always willing to offer you a shoulder to lean on or some kind words to keep you going and nothing you could do or say to the girl would wear down her resolve. Nothing could crush that spirit.

At least, that's what Leon had thought up until five minutes ago when she'd shown up leaning on his Jeep looking as if she hadn't slept in a week. Claire had survived the necropolis of Raccoon City with him. She'd nearly been captured and killed at the Umbrella facility in Utah. She _had _been captured at the Paris facility but, still, she'd managed to escape the horrors of Rockfort Island as well as the terror that had awaited her at the Antarctic base. Every time she had come back she'd greeted him with a warm smile and a warmed hug but now – now she was different.

There had been frailness in the way she had desperately clung to him, weeping against his chest. Her voice was stretched and weak. Nothing about the Claire Redfield he knew was weak. She was unbreakable. At least, he had thought so up until five minutes ago. _'Everything will be alright.'_ He repeated the mantra to himself and pressed harder on the gas but he couldn't shake the remembrance of that desperate, pleading look in Claire's eyes.

He knew what that look was, he had worn it once after he dropped Ada while trying to escape the Umbrella labs in Raccoon City. It was a look of helplessness, of knowing that you were going to lose something and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was the look one would wear when one knows that they are useless, when they know that they are about to lose something precious to them and that which is lost can never be reclaimed no matter how hard one might try.

_'Everything will be all right, Claire. You'll see.' _The words played over and over again through his mind as he drove on. After a moment though they were pushed away by a darker mantra. '_That which is lost can never be reclaimed.' _Doing his best to ignore the voice, Leon drove onwards.


	2. Gone

**Chapter 2: Gone**

Leon had never cared for hospitals much. As a small child they had been a strange and foreign place to him, just a word he had heard his parents or the other kids at school throw around from time to time. He knew little of them then, just that they were a place where you went if you got sick or had a bad fall. While this still did not give him an incredibly clear idea of what exactly a hospital was he knew that he certainly did not like getting sick or having a bad fall and thus, would not care a great deal for these hospitals either. When he turned ten he proved himself right.

After breaking his leg, not from a bad fall but from a game of street hockey that got a little rough, he had been forced to spend a week re-couperating in a hospital bed. It was then that he confirmed his suspicions about what horridly dreadful places hospitals were. All night long there were people moaning and groaning and asking for doctors. The fumes from the sanitizers they used gave him a headache. The mattress he was forced to lay on had more lumps than an unpaved road and the food tasted like cardboard.

_'This isn't about you though, dummy.' _Leon's mind told him as he sat out in the hall next to room 104, the chart hanging on the door read _Christopher Redfield. 'It's not about you so you're going to need to suck it up and keep your head straight. Claire needs you now and you're going to look pretty pathetic freaking out about some childhood phobia.' _

The officer felt eyes on him and turned to his right. Claire was starring – not at him but at the room that held her brother – her hands gripping the arm rests of her chair with white knuckles. He smiled at her, mainly because he was at a loss as to what he was supposed to say and touched her hand lightly. To Leon's surprise the younger Redfield grabbed hold of his fingers and squeezed tight, sending a small jolt of pain up through his arm and into his shoulder where it mutated into full blown, hot agony. He tried to hide stifle the grimace he felt building but the girl had learned to read him too well over the years and the small twinge in his eyes was enough to bring up questions from the twenty-five year old.

"What's the matter?" She asked, her voice breaking for a moment before the smallest of grins crossed her lips. "A little girl like me didn't hurt you now, did I?"  
"Ha! You? Hurt a macho guy like me? No way, Big Red. Just the old sports injury acting up." He lifted his shoulder then immediately wished he hadn't as a fresh wave of pain cut through him like a knife. "Damn. I've got to learn to use my left hand more."

Claire smiled at him, only the slightest of grins, then gave his hand a pat before going back to fidgeting with her skirt as she gazed anxiously at the door. The young woman was not alone in this, as Jill Valentine, another of the ex-S.T.A.R.S. who had joined in the crusade against Umbrella Inc. sat eyeing the door to Chris Redfield's room with just as much fear and anxiety in her blue eyes. Slender fingers twisting a small gold band around her finger as she sat starring at the door, paying little attention to the pair of new arrivals. The most they had gotten out of the woman since setting foot inside Saint Jude's had been a hasty "Hey, thanks for coming. Barry and Rebecca should be here soon too." That was it. It was as if the former thief had become stricken with a catatonic condition in the last few minutes.

Despite his early self-criticism, Leon couldn't shake the feelings of loathing and apprehension he had for the hallway in which he now sat. The incessant hum of the fluorescent lights, buzzing like giant insects overhead, the stench of cleansers making his head swim and the constant patrol of figures dressed in lab coats made Saint Jude's look shockingly like the German Umbrella Head Quarters. Memories of his broken leg came back to Leon, of all those pathetic voices moaning for relief. Memories of John and David, dropping dead beside him in the corridor. The air suddenly seemed too close together, the officer felt his chest tightening and absently loosened his tie.

_'Great,' _he thought, '_cracking up already. Nice work, Officer Kennedy.'_

"Leon, are you feeling alright?" Claire asked beside him, raising an eyebrow, those tired gray eyes full of genuine concern.

'_Her brother's in the hospital, dying, and she's worried about my dumb ass. Go figure.' _He thought, giving her a reassuring grin and a hasty thumbs up. '_That heart is half-gold and half-stone I'm telling you.' _

"Yeah, I'm hanging in there." He replied, finally managing to tug the cumbersome tie looser around his throat. "Just was never one to tolerate the smell of Pinesol for very long and it smells like they kicked over a bucket of it here."

Claire's face crinkled into a smile then quickly fell once more. "Do...do you think they'll let us see him soon?"

"I'm not sure." Leon answered truthfully, glancing back at the room where Chris' physician, Doctor Burke, along with a pair of nurses in blue scrubs had been for the past twenty minutes. "I guess the doctor just wants to be thorough."

"This is taking forever!" Jill exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and pacing furiously, her sneakers squeaking across the polished floor. "Why can't they just let us see him already and where the _hell _are Barry and Rebecca?"

"They'll be here, Jill." Claire said soothingly, probably to keep her own nerves in check, adjusting in her seat. "Just give them a couple more minutes."

As if on cue the aforementioned duo suddenly materialized around the corner. Barry came striding ahead of the short haired girl at his right, his black parka flapping wildly as he tore down the corridor at a near run. Leon thought that Rebecca could almost have passed for one of the hospital's scrubs, dressed in cream-colored sneakers, loose blue pants and a long-sleeved blue shirt. Her slim fingers were wrapped around one of Barry's thick arms, as if trying to hold the big man back.

"Barry, slow _down! _You're going to break your neck racing around like this!" Rebecca's light voice drifted down to where the trio sat.

"I'm in a hospital," he growled back at the young girl, "if I slip and break anything you'll just have to go fetch a nurse!"

The former-S.T.A.R.S. medic threw her hands in the air and gave an exasperated grunt before urging her bearded comrade to slow his pace once more. Ignoring her warning the hulking figure of Barry Burton refused to slow an itch until he reached the area where Jill, Leon and Claire were seated outside of Chris' room. Upon his arrival he stopped, sucked in a deep breath that made his barrel chest tremble, blew it out and gathered Jill's lithe form in a crushing bear hug.

"How is he?" Leon heard the big man mumble in her ear, his voice cracking like a dry twig.

"Wish I knew." Jill replied, squirming in Barry's crushing embrace. "Doctor Burke and his lackeys haven't let us in to see him yet. Barry...don't take this the wrong way or anything but could you let go of me? I think I'm going to be the one needing a doctor in a minute."

Surprise flashed in the bearded man's eyes for a moment before looking down at the young woman and realizing how tightly he held her. Giving his friend an embarrassed smile he gracefully relinquished his hold on her and turned to Claire. His face immediately lit up again, charging forward he pulled another victim into one of his overzealous hugs.

"God, Claire, I'm sorry." He mumbled and Leon raised an eyebrow when he saw tears rolling down Barry's round, amiable face into the thick mass of red hair that coated his jaw line. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected I guess." She replied, even managing a small laugh.

Leon stood up beside her as Barry squeezed tighter, forcing the girl to stand on her tiptoes. Absently, the officer reached up to scratch his own scraggly, unkempt beard, feeling strangely that he shouldn't be there. He knew that was a stupid notion to entertain, he had just as much right as any of the others to be standing in that hallway and Claire had asked him to come but still, he couldn't help feeling out of place.

_'You've felt that way a lot.' _His mind reminded him as Rebecca managed to pull up alongside Barry at last, huffing and puffing for breath. _'Ever since you got on that plane with David and the others you felt that you didn't belong there, with them. You were worried about following Claire around like some kind of schoolboy pining over the head cheerleader. Looks like you're back to your old tricks, eh Kennedy?'_

Leon immediately told himself to shut up, giving his scruffy beard a sharp tug to make sure the message sank in. Claire had needed a ride and he'd given it to her, he wasn't _following _her anywhere. Chris Redfield may never have been particularly warm to the young officer in the time the two had known each other (Leon discovered quickly that the man became suspicious of anyone who had spent any length of time alone with his little sister) but that didn't change the fact that Leon still owed the man his life. Besides, he wasn't about to just leave Claire and his other friends out to dry. Reassuring himself that he was not, in fact, out of place Leon turned his head to the left slightly, realizing that Rebecca was laughing at him.

"Aww, you kept it." She crooned, clapping her hands together. "Cute."

"Wha?" The officer replied, perplexed.

"The beard, kid." Barry said, his red face breaking out into a grin as he stroked his own. "Looks just like mine...when I was sixteen that is."

Leon was shocked when the others broke out in laughter. The atmosphere certainly didn't warrant a particularly humorous situation and Barry's joke wasn't exactly side splitting but it took him only a moment to realize why they found his facial hair so funny. They were reaching, reaching for anything that would relieve some of the tension...even if it would only be temporary. A man they respected and love was about to leave the mortal realm and they didn't quite know how to deal with that yet, so they were reaching for something to keep them from thinking about it. Something that would let them smile and laugh and pretend everything was all right.

"Eh." Leon shrugged casually. "I thought it made me look tough and rugged. No perp is going to want to mess with an officer who just plain out looks as tough and rugged as a Hell's Angel right?"

"Woah!" Becca smiled, throwing her hands up in protest. "_Someone _has a high opinion of themselves."

"I don't like it." Claire said giving Leon a mock frown as she pulled on a clump of scraggly red hair. "It makes you look like you should be walking around the streets with a cup harassing law abiding citizens with phrases like 'Hey buddy, got a quarter?'"

Leon laughed, slapping the girl's hand away gently. "I get no respect! I try to be creative and original and _this _is what I get!"

"Original?" Claire taunted. "Show me one man who can't grow some kind of a beard and I'll..."

The youngest Redfield trailed off as the door to her brother's room swung open and the familiar face of Doctor Daniel Burke stepped into the hallway, accompanied by two middle-aged women in scrubs. Burke was a wise, sagely looking man with a crown of white hair atop his head and a pair of thin spectacles resting on the edge of his hawk-like nose. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his pristine white lab coat as he fixed the group with what Leon thought of as the Doctor Smile. It was the smile physicians used when they had to tell you something terrible but wanted to seem nice about it.

"Oh my, I didn't expect so many of you." Burke said in his soft, whispery tone. "Your husband is resting comfortably." The doctor fixed Jill with that tragic smile of his and new tears welled up in her eyes. "I think he can tolerate some visitors now but..."

"But what?" Claire interjected eagerly, grabbing Burke's arm and sinking her nails in.

"Well, Ms. Redfield," the doctor replied, gently prying Claire's fingers from around his arm, "your brother's condition has worsened a great deal. He's been weakened by the treatments we have tried to impose and it seems that his body is simply giving up the fight against the cancer, which is allowing it to advance more rapidly. He...he may not have very much time left. I'm sorry."

Claire lowered her arm back to her side and with it her head fell. Leon watched sadly as the girl shook her head, drops of water rolling over her red cheeks and down her face, dripping onto the floor. Her small hands balling up into fists. The officer made a move to reach for her but then she regarded Doctor Burke with a look that contained such fire and resolve it could only have come from a Redfield. The look gave Leon pause and he quickly dropped his hand.

"I want to see my brother." She said to the doctor, her voice flat and there was no doubt that a refusal to her statement would be cause enough for all that rage and fire in her gray eyes to erupt.

"B-by all means." Burke stuttered, Claire's gaze catching him off guard. For such a fragile looking girl she was capable of summoning up a surprising deal of emotion. "G-go ahead."

With that Doctor Burke retreated up the corridor as if fleeing a burning building. Claire straighten her back, took in a deep breath, and pulled the wooden door open, leading the procession into the room that held Chris Redfield. Behind him, Leon could hear a great deal of choking as the other three tried to hold back their sobs. For a moment, the officer wondered why he wasn't doing the same.

_'Because you didn't know him, you dink.' _He thought as he stepped into the darkened area that smelled just as heavily of the harsh sanitizers that gave him such a headache. _'Barry's his best friend. He worked alongside him for more years than you could count on one hand. Chris saved Rebecca's bacon more than once in the Spencer Estate if even half of what you heard about that nuthouse is true and you know that it is. Jill married the guy for Pete's sake. He's Claire's brother, she's known him her whole life. She traveled half way across the world just to find the guy and that was on a _hunch! _What kind of relationship do you even have with the guy, Kennedy?'_

Not a good one. That was for sure. While not being outright hostile to the young policeman Claire's brother had not been particularly warm either. Leon suspected that this was in part because of his close friendship to the younger Redfield sibling. No matter how much they had insisted there was nothing between them it didn't seem to reassure Chris anymore. In fact, Leon was fairly convinced the nicest thing Chris Redfield had ever said to him was "Good morning, pass me the coffee pot."

_'So what the hell are you doing here, Kennedy?'_ Leon tried to force the unpleasant voice out of his head but it seemed to have good footing and would not be uprooted easily. _'You aren't needed here. There's enough support and emotion here directed at Chris Redfield to raise the Titanic with. Not like the guy was your friend or anything. Just slip out the back, Kennedy, no one will miss you.' _

Once again, Leon told himself to shut up. It wasn't like that. He had to stay.

Before his mind had time to go on another unpleasant rant Leon focused his energy on surveying the room in which he now stood. It was small, hospital rooms always seemed too small to him, too condensed. On the right wall there was a wide, plate glass window, letting the sun's golden rays spill into the white tiled room. Beside the bed was a small oak table where a crystal vase containing an assortment of wild flowers rested. Next to the clear vase was a copy of Auto Trader; Chris had always liked to flip through the publication and circle the cars he'd like to buy if he ever got enough money to do so.

_'Too bad he's going to die now that he does.' _Leon shook his head absently. _'Shut up!' _

The bed was the most frightening sight of all. Steel rails ran around its perimeter to keep the patient from falling onto the floor in his sleep. An assortment of machines and tubes and tanks were all set up around the bed as well, beeping or hissing or pumping incessantly. The tubes and cables all ran into one common connector: Chris Redfield. Leon felt his breath catch when he looked at the man he hadn't seen in over a year.

_'No way, no _way _is that the same guy. No way, can't be.' _He thought looking at the pathetic form splayed out on the bed, looking to weak to even be able to raise his head.

It was as if the Chris Redfield he knew had transformed into an entirely different person. The figure on the bed must have shed at least one hundred pounds and the formerly thick mass of chestnut hair had been cut down to a few loose strands hanging absently over his ears. The man's skin was as pale as a sheet of paper, the blue veins running beneath the surface clearly evident. An oxygen mask covered the rest of the eldest Redfield's face but his blue eyes were still sharp and full of vitality. It was Chris Redfield all right; Leon could see the vibrant spirit inside the destroyed shell.

"Hey," Jill said sweetly, tenderly, taking her husband's bony hand in her own as she took a seat in the chair pulled up at his bedside. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

With what must have taken a great deal of strength Chris reached up and removed the mask from his face, revealing pale, blue lips that stretched into the faintest of smiles at his wife's shining face. "Been...better. The food...here...really...sucks." He coughed weakly.

Jill managed a weak laugh, eyes welling up with new tears. "Well don't worry. Doctor Burke...Doctor Burke said that we'd be able to take you home real soon. Isn't that good news?"

It was Chris' turn to laugh but it quickly deteriorated into a short fit of coughing. "You know...what I love the most about you Jill?" He said, smiling timidly. "You...only ever lie when you...want me to feel better." She didn't say anything, only smiled and so he went on. "I'm tired...Jill. Really tired. I don't think I'll be able to...come home...this time. I'm...sorry for everything."

Leon looked around at the other faces in the room. Rebecca was frantically wiping her eyes on her sleeve, her small form shaking with each new sob that overtook her. Barry stood, looking like a lumberjack in his plaid shirt and jeans, his face beet red and tears flowing freely into his beard then dripping down his chin onto the floor. Claire though, Claire was eerily composed. Her face a mask of stone set and composed but Leon could see the water in her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to hold those tears back, damn them up, he knew they would come out soon.

Feeling out of place that he seemed to be the only one in the room not overcome with emotion Leon quickly sank into a chair up against the wall by the foot of the bed. He buried his face in his hands, hoping that would shield him from the view of anyone who might be watching and wondering why he didn't feel as strongly for this man as they did. Instead, he felt a warm hand lay across his back and he didn't have to look up to know it was Claire's. He knew her touch, light and warm and calming.

_'Jeez.' _He thought, not daring to look up at her with dry eyes. _'She probably thinks I'm broken up about Chris too and that I'm trying to act macho and not let anyone see me cry. Half-stone and half-gold I'd bet on it, Claire you're too good for anyone.' _

"Sorry?" He heard Jill say. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Yes...I do." Came the strained, wheezing voice that broke off in a fit of coughing before coming back weaker than before. "For Umbrella...for getting sick." Leon raised his head just enough to see the cancer stricken Redfield stroke Jill's hand lightly with his thumb. "For us. I'm...sorry that I couldn't be...the man you deserve. I'm sorry."

"Quiet." She scolded, her voice distorted as sobs tried to break through her words. "None of that matters now, you're the only man that I wanted. That I needed. Just rest, you'll get better in no time."

"I...love you Jill." He said, voice thin and strained. "I always have...always will. If you...hear anything rattling around...in your house at night...it's just me. I...never could navigate that staircase in the dark."

"Chris, I love you too." Jill's words were more of desperate plea than a statement, an urging to make the man stay, to hang on to life for a little while longer. The woman broke down, sobbing against her husband's shoulder. Leon watched as Barry walked over and placed one of his massive paws on her back.

"Hey buddy." Barry said, giving Chris a small smile, his voice the rumble of a giant bee. "This place must get pretty boring huh? I'll have to stop by with some beer next time."

"Only...Coors, man." Chris replied, fixing his friend with a lopsided grin. "Nothing but the Silver Bullet...for me. Barry...I need you...to do me a favor."

"Just name it." Came the big man's reply.

"I need you...to look after my girls." Chris coughed then nodded to Jill and Claire vaguely. "Keep them out of trouble...will you? You might find them...a little more difficult then...Moira and Poly but I...think you'll be able...to handle it." He coughed again. So weak.

"Sure bud," Barry said, giving his partner a light slap on the leg. "You just hang in there. Poly and Moira are in there teens now and _that's _almost more than I can handle so just think of me as a caretaker in the meantime. It's only temporary all right? You're going to have to stay alive long enough to come back and take them off my hands again, you hear?"

"Sorry Barry." Chris said with a shake of his head. Just a subtle back and forth motion. "I can't promise...anything." At that, Becca let out a might sniff and Chris' eyes, so full of life even as it left his body. "Becky?"

"Y-yeah. I'm here." She said, her voice somehow weaker than his as she moved to the other side of the bed and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Some child prodigy I am huh?" She smiled. "I'm supposed to be some scientific whiz kid and I can't even fix up one of my friends when they get sick. Pretty sad huh?"

"Nah," Chris replied, shaking his head again and touching her hand lightly. "You're still...smarter than me. You'll probably...invent a car that...runs on air or something...and win the Nobel Prize. You're...you're a good kid, Becky. A good woman. You have...to promise me...something too." Another cough, a deep phlegmy rasp.

"O-okay." The former medic said, that elfish grin of hers appearing back on a face stained by falling tears. "What is it?"

"Promise me," Chris's lips parted in a smile. His lips were so pale. "That you'll...never...grow your hair...long. It...wouldn't suit you. Promise?"

Rebecca chortled then stifled a sob as she nodded acquiescence. "Okay, promise."

For a moment, a terribly long moment, there was silence. The only sounds were Jill's ragged sobs and Rebecca's soft sniffling. Not a word was spoken and the solemn air of it all hit Leon hard. It was like a tomb, it was like the man lying in the bed was already dead and they had come to mourn him. Then, Chris spoke again and Leon was shocked to hear him speak his name. The young cop had been ignored for so long he was almost certain that he had somehow turned invisible.

"Leon?" Chris said, voice cracking in mid-sentence so it came out more like "Le-on?"

"Uh...uh yeah?" The younger man said, jumping to his feet awkwardly and walking to the side of the bed where Rebecca stood. She moved aside to give him more room. "Yeah, what is it Chris?"

At first Leon was wary of what the dying man would say to him. He was convinced it would be something along the lines of: "Don't touch my sister," or "If you so much as lay a hand on her I'll come back from the dead and slice your balls off," but once again the youthful officer was surprised. Chris leaned forward, eyes hard with determination as if the simple act of shifting in the bed required all his strength, and grabbed a handful of Leon's uniform.

"You...you have to...promise me something too." He said, voice hardly more than a whisper. The others looked on with surprised expressions crossing their faces.

"Uhm," Leon said stupidly, "uh, s-sure. What? What do you need me to do?"

Chris leaned forward again so that his face was flush with the side of Leon's head. He whispered into his ear, his voice so strained, so deflated from the one the younger man had grown accustomed to. The words that the ill man spoke nearly made the young officer leap out of his skin. Eyes wide, Leon paused a moment at the end of Chris' sentence and nodded hesitantly. The older man spoke once more and once again Leon nodded with hesitation. After the cop's final nod of agreement the eldest Redfield sighed, as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest, and rolled back to rest his head against a sweaty pillow.

"Everyone..." He said hoarsely, looking at Claire who was biting her lower lip, no doubt to keep from crying. "I...I love you all. Now...please...I want to talk to my sister. Alone. Just for a minute...or two."

No one had the guts or the audacity to deny the wishes of a dying man and the assembled group only nodded before slowly filing out of the hospital room. Leon promptly fell into the same chair he had been sitting in before and pressed his fist to the side of his head, thinking deeply. His world reeled and spun wildly as the full weight of Chris Redfield's words began to sink in.

_'Shit.' _He thought silently as the others, save for Jill who paced anxiously up and down the hallway, took seats of their own. _'Man, just when you think you're life is back on track and things are looking up Fate tosses you a curveball. _How _could he ask me to that? _How _could he ask me to do that for her? Jeez. How was that even Chris? That wasn't the same guy who I saw running around the halls of the Germany complex with an M-4 in his hands, shouting orders and firing like some kind of action hero. That wasn't the same guy I saw pouring over maps and documents while everyone else was sleeping. No way, couldn't be.'_

What was it that Doctor Burke had said? His body was giving up the fight? The Chris Redfield _he _knew didn't know the meaning of the words give up. He had fought through a mansion infested with all sorts of Umbrella's playthings and survived. He'd gone rushing off to Rockfort Island and then Antarctica when his sister had gone missing, braving death and worse to save his only remaining family and he had survived. The man had fought against the biggest multinational corporation in the _world _and he had survived. Now they were saying that he was giving up against some cells that had gone bad inside him? How could a man like Chris Redfield survive all that just to die from some disease, from some stupid habit he had? There was no justice in that.

Leon was unaware of how long he sat in the corridor of Saint Jude's waiting, mulling over the things Claire's brother had whispered into his ear but he was stirred from his thoughts, from the orders given to him by Chris, when the door to the man's room opened and out stepped Claire. Actually, stumbled would have been a more appropriate word than stepped. Her athletic figure shook with a violent sob, her eyes constricting tightly as she grabbed the doorframe for support. Leon was on his feet in an instant, quickly followed by the others, grasping the girl around the waist and pulling her up.

"Le-on," she said when as he pulled her up, giving him a frightening sense of déjà vu. When he had pulled her back to a standing position she looked him in the eyes only a moment, her own clouded with unshed tears, and flung her arms about his neck. Burying her face in his neck the tears broke through and her body shook as the damn she had set up against them came crumbling down. "He's dead. Gone. Oh God, _he's gone!"_

Author's Note: Here you are, my Readers. Look for another chapter fairly soon as well as an update of Three Days In A Nightmare within a week. I hope you enjoy.


	3. Orders

**Chapter 3: Orders**

Holding the shaking figure of Claire Redfield in his arms Leon couldn't help but remember the last words her brother had spoken to him. Even then, out in the hallway, he could still feel that pale, cold hand clutching his shirt and that weak, strained voice whispering in his ear. Whispering orders to him, forcing him to make a promise.

"Leon," Chris had said to him. "I...want you to...level with me. Tell me the truth because...I'm not in much...condition...to kick your...ass, after all. You...love my sister...don't you?"

That was one hell of a question to ask and Leon was sure he looked absolutely shocked when Chris had asked it. At the time the officer had been uncertain of how to respond and had just stood there frozen for a moment, mulling the query over in his mind. _Did _he love Claire? He certainly _liked _the girl at least but love...that was a big word.

_'Not to mention you already tried sorting through your feelings for her once before with less than satisfactory results.' _His mind reminded him, bringing back images and memories of the plane trip to the Utah Umbrella facility. _'Looks like history is repeating itself again. You've got all the same feelings you had for her before: compassion, warmth, companionship, concern...but love? That's a big jump. Maybe not such a big one though, there are different _kinds _of love aren't there? Not all love is romantic. You're just her close friend but there's a real bond there and you even tried to get into her bed one n...' _

Leon cut the thought off before it was even fully formed. That had been a long time ago, nearly two years, and he had stopped the situation before it got out of hand. Still, it had taken a great deal of thought and even more willpower to keep himself from doing something he knew he'd regret later.

Two years ago Leon and Claire had been hiding out in London waiting for word from Chris and the others about when and where it would be safe to meet up again. Weeks of hiding turned into months and the boredom of laying low was beginning to get to the both of them. They had managed to avoid Umbrella's henchmen for a long while and felt they deserved a little break from the hectic, fugitive life. Besides, the pub Leon had suggested going to was a small, out of the way place where the risk of being spotted would be low.

One pint had quickly turned into two though and two became three. Before he knew it, the two of them were stumbling back up the street laughing and tripping over themselves. Upon reaching Claire's hotel room, miraculously still in tact, she had reached over and taken Leon's hand in her own, lightly stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

"Do you want to come in?" She had asked, her voice slightly slurred and heavy with the stench of alcohol but warm and inviting all the same. The sultry look in her gray eyes more than tempting. Her soft touch on his hand sending a jolt of electricity through his hazy, clouded mind.

For a moment, one that had seemed incredibly long at the time, Leon had just stood there looking at the hand that caressed his own. During that lone moment a great deal passed through his head. Maybe he should take her up on his offer, he had thought. She was gorgeous, there was no denying that, and he was forced to admit that it had been a long time since he had bedded a woman. He could always rationalize it in the morning by blaming the booze or hormones or anything else. Then he looked up into those cloudy, drunken eyes of hers and knew he couldn't do it.

No, Claire was off limits, especially in her current state. She was drunk, to take her up on her offer would be to take advantage of her and he respected her far too much to do that. They had been through hell and back together, it seemed a crime to the young officer to sleep with her because they were both too sloshed to know better. She _wasn't _just another warm, female body. She was Claire Redfield and she deserved better than that.

"N-no." He'd told her with no small amount of effort, stepping away from her touch. "We should get some sleep. Goodnight, Claire." With an awkward smile he had turned and walked down the hall to his own room, not waiting to see the look that passed across her face, simply wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. He had and they never spoke of the incident again.

Leon hadn't thought much of it at the time it happened but when Chris asked him if he loved his sister that memory took on new importance. Claire Redfield a beautiful, alluring young woman had, aside from being more than a little intoxicated, been ready and willing to sleep with him and he had refused. He said no because he knew her too well, because he respected her too much. Because he loved her too much. In some way or another he loved Claire Redfield...even if he didn't know exactly how.

Leon had only nodded and Chris went on, tightening his grip and all trace of weakness left his voice as he summoned up all his remaining strength to make sure the younger man understood every word he spoke clearly. "You take care of her then. You love her with every breath you take and remember her in everything you do. You do everything you can to protect her, to make sure she never forgets how much you care. _Never, _let her feel alone. Be there with her every step of the way, kid. Now promise me that. Do you promise that you'll do that for me?"

_'What was I supposed to say?' _Leon thought, stroking Claire's smooth hair as she continued to weep against his shoulder. _'No, Chris, too damn bad? Of course I said I'd do it, I probably would have done it even if he hadn't ask but still, why _me? _I'd lay down in traffic for the girl if she asked me to but he couldn't possibly know that. Why did he make _me _promise that?'_

Secretly, Leon knew the answer to that question. Once again it was buried in the recesses of his memory. It had happened five months ago but the scene played through Leon's head as if it were taking place at that moment.

He saw Claire, in an oversized flannel shirt and red denim shorts, stretched across the checkered picnic blanket, smiling over at him as she straightened out her ponytail. To their right, stretched out on a blanket of their own atop the grassy hill, sat Chris and Jill eating sandwiches out of a large wicker basket and talking in low voices. The older Redfield wore a black sweater and a black winter cap to cover up the hair and weight he had lost as a result of the radiation treatments. The man's cheeks were sunken and eyes hollow but his smile was genuine as he conversed with his wife.

"Oh, leave your hair alone." Leon teased the young woman beside him, giving her a playful snap with his napkin. "You look fine."

"Just _fine?_" Claire huffed, pouting and pretending to be truly hurt. "Wouldn't you say that I'm shockingly wonderful and without comparison?"

"Well," Leon replied, furrowing his brows as if in deep thought, "I might say those things about _you _but certainly not about this food you prepared." Leon proceeded to clutch his stomach and grimace as if suffering from a fierce bout of indigestion.

"Oh, that's it Kennedy!" Claire had said with an indignant squeal. "You're a dead man, my friend."

Without another word the youngest Redfield had thrown her arm around his neck and locked him into the crook of her arm. Applying pressure, she dropped to her knees and held him in place. Claire chortled manically when he had pried feebly at her arm.

"No one escapes the dreaded Redfield Headlock of Havoc!" She had teased.

"That doesn't even...make sense!" Leon gasped, pulling at the arm around his throat.

"Quiet." She demanded, still laughing. "Now, for insulting my cooking you must repeat the phrase 'Claire Redfield is the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world' _fifty _times and then _maybe _I'll let you go."

"I certainly hope so." Leon had replied, trying to struggle to a standing position. "Because your armpit really reeks, Claire, I mean _seriously._"

"You just don't get it, do you buddy?" Claire laughed, relinquishing her headlock on the young man and shoving him to the ground. The two wrestled about on the ground for a moment, each accusing the other of trying to cheat in some form or another, before Claire finally managed to flip the young officer over and pin his shoulders to the ground with her hands. "Ha ha. _I _win."

"You know," Leon had replied, a mischievous grin creeping across his face as he laid his hands on her bare thighs, "a guy could get used to this position."

Leon remembered the look of startled amusement that had passed across Claire's face then, obviously surprised that there was a man brave (or stupid) enough to make such a comment with her brother sitting a mere three feet away. She had just laughed and given him that sultry little simper that had caused so many men to look at her twice.

"Oh?" She had said coyly, and Leon had felt one of her legs creeping up so that her knee was positioned dangerously close to his groin. "Could a guy get used to this position too?"

"It's not nice to make threats, Claire." Leon had scolded the girl, wagging one finger. She had only laughed again and rolled away, pacing off to the small brick hut where the park's washrooms were located.

Leon remembered sitting up, dusting himself off and then turning to find Chris starring at him. The man's pale face had made the cop shiver then, reminding him of the zombies that had pursued him relentlessly through the streets of Raccoon City. Those eyes had been hard as stone, full of jealousy and suspicion but there had been something else in their depths as well. Acceptance maybe? Acceptance that this man would be the one to take over the role of looking after his sister once he was gone. Chris had been planning this all along.

Suppressing the urge to groan, Leon just went on stroking Claire's hair, letting her cry out all the grief she had stored inside her. He held her close, thinking about what Chris had said to him. He had promised to take care of her, to protect her...but could he?

Looking down at the girl sobbing against his chest, so broken and vulnerable, Leon wasn't sure that he could.

Author's Note: Here you are my Readers, another chapter and another to come relatively soon. Stay tuned for an update of Three Days In A Nightmare by Monday or Tuesday as well. Enjoy.


	4. Fading Light

**Chapter 4: Fading Light **

Leon looked over at the girl riding along in the passenger seat of his Jeep and immediately felt guilty. Claire looked so forlorn, so hollow just sitting idly smoothing back loose strands of hair. Her eyes were red and puffy, lips tightly pressed and pulled thing. Her skin, usually a vibrant and beaming, a reflection of the energy and vitality in the girl, was as white as snow. Each time she reached up to tuck her auburn bangs behind her ear he noticed a tremor shoot through her hand and up her slender arm. Leon couldn't help but wonder why he didn't feel that way.

_'Well, he wasn't your brother for one, genius.' _His mind told the officer vindictively as he drove down the icy street a little too fast. _'He wasn't even really your friend. Friend's don't typically stare at you as if they'd like to hang you by your feet and use you for target practice. Friend's don't typically stand over your shoulder, watching every move you make even if you're just trying to watch the news to see if they mention your name in it. Maybe you don't feel anything because you're happy that Chris is gone? With him not watching over you like a hawk maybe you can finally make a move? Is that it Kennedy?'_

"Shut up." Leon told the voice in his head through gritted teeth, his voice so low even Claire who was seated beside him didn't hear a thing.

It was preposterous to think that Chris' death could have brought him happiness. He may never have liked Claire's dangerously overprotective brother but he had respected the man a great deal, respected what he did and what he stood for. Besides, if it hadn't been for Chris Redfield then Leon wouldn't even be alive to be considering why he felt nothing at the man's death.

No, that wasn't entirely true either. He felt something...but it wasn't for Chris. The young cop felt the weight of guilt, sympathy, sorrow and regret pressing heavily on his heart but these emotions were aimed towards Claire. He felt guilty that he didn't know what to say to ease her pain. He felt sympathetic for her loss. He felt sorrowful that the girl, his closest friend, had lost the only family she had left. He felt regretful...Leon wasn't quite sure _why _he felt regret hanging over him like a dark cloud but he was certain that's what the feeling was.

_'Maybe,' _Leon thought, taking a sharp right, _'it's because they loved each other a lot, more than most siblings do anyways, and the last few years they had together were less than happy. They were either separated, wondering if the other was alive or off fighting Umbrella together and then, just when they thought things might be looking up Chris got sick. God what must _that _have been like? Watching his strong body wither away, watching as the treatments did nothing to shrink the cancer, only crush his spirit more, all the while knowing he's the only family you've got left. The only one of your blood left on the planet. Claire, you're stronger than I'll ever be.' _

Taking his eyes off the road, the young officer glanced over at the last surviving Redfield and thought was about what a revelation that must have been for her. Being the last surviving of anything certainly had to send you for a loop. How could she cope with that knowledge? How could she just sit there, so calmly, playing with her hair or looking out the window? Why wasn't she breaking down or cursing God's name or doing anything but looking so cool? Realizing he had no answers for his questions, Leon thought it best to simply focus on driving.

Getting out of the hospital had been no small feat. The group was moved the main reception hall of Saint Jude's, a tactic Leon thought Doctor Burke had used simply to spare them the sight of having to see Chris' body wheeled out under a white sheet. There they had all sat for what must have been hours, reminiscing over the things Chris Redfield had done in life.

Rebecca laughed as she recalled the time in the Spencer Estate when she'd maced the Alpha with a can of bug spray. Becky told them that at the time of the incident she had been torn between embarrassment at what she'd done and fear that Chris was going to lock her outside the storage room she had been hiding in for destroying his sight.

"Then he smiled up at me through all the tears streaming down his face," Rebecca told them with a small smile, "and said 'Forget about it. Not a bad weapon actually.' I thought I was going to faint with relief." The girl had chuckled then but Leon could see tears of her own forming in the deep blue pools of her eyes.

"That's nothing." Barry said with a wide grin, his rumbling tone making Leon think an avalanche was going on in the man's throat. "I remember one night when me and him were walking down the street after watching the Raccoon Bandits play a game. So, we're just walking back to his car and some guy comes tearing up the pavement behind him and slams a purse into his arms, I never saw the poor guy look more confused and then this lady comes chasing down the street after him and sees Chris holding her purse. Let me tell you, I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head when she called him a thief and kicked him in the crotch. I was laughing too hard to give him a hand up."

Everyone had laughed at that, the image of Chris Redfield splayed across the pavement clutching his groan and wailing in pain simply too comical not to enjoy. There had been more stories from Barry and Rebecca. Some were funny, some were sad but all made a point of what a good man and friend Chris had been to them. Claire and Jill however, had remained strangely silent laughing and smiling whenever a humorous moment was recalled but keeping their thoughts to themselves otherwise.

_'It's too soon for them.'_ Leon realized as he turned onto the street that would lead to his studio apartment. _'They knew him the best, they loved him the most, he only died a few hours ago and they're still trying to deal with that. The shock of it is probably too near to go about recalling all the wonderful things the man did. They're probably just beginning to accept, _really _accept, the fact that he's gone.'_

After awhile everyone grew quiet and the awkward silence announced that it was time to be leaving. Barry and Rebecca tenderly escorted Jill back to her car, saying that one of them would stay the night with her just in case she needed anything. At first, Leon was surprised that the pair seemed to be ditching Claire for Chris' wife and then the realization of what they were doing hit him. It made him feel more startled than angry.

_'They knew they didn't have to ask me, they knew I'd take care of her.' _Leon thought, feeling some small amount of annoyance at Barry and Rebecca's assumptions. Sure, he would never have imagined of just ditching Claire but...that still didn't give them the right to simply _assume _he'd watch over her that night. Leon sighed as he pulled into the underground parking garage of his apartment complex, thinking that his getting angry over Barry and Rebecca's actions was actually rather stupid.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Leon had said gently as the others were filing out of Saint Jude's.

"N-no." Claire had replied after a moment's thought. "I just don't want to be alone tonight." Her eyes flared as she realized the possible implications of her statement. "Well uh, I mean that...I didn't mean that..."

Leon had laughed, raising his hands to quiet her stammering. "It's alright, I know what you mean. Don't worry, I promise to be a perfect gentleman and take the couch."

Leading the way through the underground parking lot, up the elevator and down the hall to his apartment Leon shouldered the door open and stepped inside. There wasn't much to look at in the studio apartment aside from unopened boxes and bags. A tacky blue sofa rested in front of a TV that stood atop a milk crate. Two offshoots took up space on either end of the apartment, the one on the left leading to the kitchen area while the right would lead down into Leon's room where more boxes and a mattress laying on the floor rested. If one thing could be said about Leon Kennedy it was that he was a notoriously lazy mover, Claire had even joked at one time that he would be better suited to teamster work than enforcing the law.

"Well, this is it." Leon said flicking on the light in his bedroom. "I know it's not much but, well, you could probably tell from the tour I gave you that this place is hardly the Ritz."

"It'll do fine, Leon." Claire replied with a slight smile. "Thanks, I really appreciate this. I know it must be an inconvenience."

"Hey, it's no trouble at all, really." He replied sincerely, touching her lightly on the arm. "You can stay as long as you need to alright?"

"Alright." She nodded.

"Okay," The young officer replied, turning to go, "I'm going to fix myself something to eat. Can I get you anything?"

"N-no. Not right now, thanks." Claire answered, easing herself onto the edge of the bed and starring at her feet.

"Uh, alright. Well, if you need anything just give a shout." Leon said, scratching the back of his neck. It felt awkward to just leave now. Shouldn't she want to talk about everything that had happened? Why was she so quiet? Realizing that he was just standing there in the doorway gawking at her, Leon quickly snapped out of his daze and headed towards the kitchen still feeling the worst was yet to come.

Leon was having a great deal of trouble trying to sink away into sleep that night. Not just because of the situation with Claire, his insomnia also had a physical component to it as well.

_'Damn couch,' _the officer thought rolling onto his side and pulling the blanket up around his shoulders, only to land on another lump. _'Bargain my ass.'_

Not only was it a rather gruesome shade of blue but the piece of furniture was dreadfully uncomfortable. It felt a great deal like what he would have imagined sleeping on a valley of hills would have felt like. There were lumps and rolls and springs jutting out to stab him in the sides. Needless to say Leon was wide-awake when he heard the sounds coming from down the hall.

_'Claire.' _The thought leapt into his mind as he kicked the blanket from him. Clad in only his shorts and t-shirt the young officer cursed himself for a fool for not having worn something warmer to sleep in and rubbed his arms to keep warm. His bare feet slapped a steady rhythm against the hardwood floor as he raced down the room, the sound of choked, ragged sobbing filling his ears.

Easing the door to his makeshift bedroom open, Leon quietly slid inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Claire sat with her back leaning against the rumpled mattress she had taken off her boots but was still dressed in the same clothes she had worn all day. She gripped a small photograph between two shaking fingers, her red eyes focused solely on the picture as fresh tears welled in her eyes and sobs brought her breath in heavy, irregular gasps.

Maneuvering his way stealthily around so that he came up behind Claire, Leon looked over her shoulder at the photo that seemed to cause her such heartache. Even in the blackness of the apartment he could see the images of a Chris Redfield and his sister, wide grins splitting their faces as they smiled for the camera in the photo booth. The eldest of the other in a headlock and Claire smiled as she pulled at her brother's strong arm.

The picture couldn't be more than a couple years old but the two of them looked so much different. Chris, strong and healthy, nothing like the pale, hollow image of death he had been in the hospital. Claire, her smile so bright, filled with the light of youth rather than the darkness of grief. Leon wondered how two people could change so much in such a short span of time. In one day, the girl he had known for just over half a decade had been destroyed.

"Claire," he said tenderly, uncertainly, taking a seat beside her. She turned her gaze at the sound of her name, looking a little startled as if she had not even noticed him. Then her swollen, wet eyes fixed him with a look of such lamentation, such irreparable sorrow that the young officer trailed off.

_'What do I say to her?' _Leon wondered, all the emotions in Claire's gaze piercing his heart like a spear. _'Do I ask if she's okay? She's clearly not. Do I ask if she needs anything...besides her brother? I doubt a glass of water is going to help anything. Jeez, why can't anything just be easy?'_

"Listen, Claire," Leon began again, turning his eyes to the floor, as he was unable to meet that stricken gaze. "I don't know exactly what to say. I wish I could think of something that would help but I guess I'm too dense and I just keep drawing blanks so just tell me what to say and I'll say it."

"Just tell me he's not gone!" Claire said, doubling over as a sob coursed through her. Leon wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her and pulled her in close, resting her head against his shoulder. "Just tell me it's not real. I don't want it to be real."

"I know," he soothed gently, tightening his hold on her as if that would quiet the sobs threatening to break her in half. "I know. This may sound cliché, Claire, but it's true. He's _not _gone. Not as long as you remember him. You've done so much together, remember all the things you did, all the things you said, to one another and it'll be like he's still here with you. Chris would never leave you Claire, not permanently. I didn't know him that well but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he loves you and if you remember that he'll never really be gone."

"I don't want to have to remember!" She screamed, clutching his shirt violently, but Leon knew that her anger wasn't directed towards him. It was directed at everything else.

He had felt much the same way when Ada died – when she'd let go. For so long he couldn't even get out of bed and when finally managed to get past that stage everything he saw brought up feelings of rage and regret in the pit of his stomach. Nothing was furious with everything: with the sun for shinning, with others for not knowing his pain...with himself for living. That was the most frightening thing of all, to feel guilty that you had survived and were able to go on freely with your life.

_'I never want you to feel like that Claire.' _He thought silently, holding her close, wishing her crying would subside. Women like Claire shouldn't have anything to cry over, they should be shielded from feeling pain. _'It's the loneliest feeling in the world.'_

"Claire," Leon said again after her ragged sobbing and muffled cries of woe had relaxed, "I know how you feel, honestly I do. You know what I was like after Raccoon. You tried to help me but I shut you out, I tried to deal with everything on my own and eventually I did but it was hell. Please, don't shut me out like I did you. Let me help you. You aren't alone in this...even if you feel that you are. Promise that you'll let me help."

"I-I promise." She replied after a moment's hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck and sniffing deeply as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Don't quit on me." Leon whispered softly into her ear.

Claire didn't say a word, only tensed against him. The silence dragged on for hours, the two sitting holding each other, and for Leon the absence of any sound was the loudest noise of all. It was the sound of someone keeping secrets, keeping a plan hidden, one he feared a great deal.

He remembered the secrets he had kept inside after the Raccoon incident, fantasies of cutting his wrist while locked away in his room. The bite of the blade across his wrist and then the sweet ecstasy as the blood leaked out of his veins, taking his life with it. How glorious it would have been to just slip away into a peaceful sleep, away from pain and grief and guilt, forever. The fantasies had only ever remained that though, there was always something holding him back from making the swipe across his wrist when he had the cold steel of his pocketknife pressed against his skin.

_'I always swore I'd do it, swore I'd just make the cut without thinking about it but I never could.' _Leon thought, gently rocking back and forth with the emotionally shattered girl. _'There was always one memory that got through and then more would follow it. I'd remember Claire's hand on my arm, warm and soft, and then her voice asking if I was alright, if I wanted to talk. I'd look up at her then and she'd be smiling down at me. Her face seemed to glow when she smiled at me and everything lit up. There was no weight too heavy, no pain to strong to smother that light. Even when I told her to get lost, she'd take a step back as if I slapped her across the chops but that light was still there. Half-stone and half-gold.'_

Recalling Claire's smile, the kind that made her whole face crinkle pleasantly, brought back memories of light and warmth but there was no light or warmth where Leon was now. There was only the darkness of the night and the frigid cold of the hardwood floor beneath his bare legs. Claire was there though, everything shouldn't seem so dark, where was that light of hers, the light that had kept Leon alive when he had been in the darkest of places?

Suddenly, everything about the room in which they sat seemed wrong. The blackness was too thick, too total, banishing away the light. The chill of the night bite like a vile beast, consuming the warmth of life and exhaling with the icy breath of death. Silently, Leon urged Claire, broken and destroyed, to smile, to assure him that there was indeed light at the end of the tunneling. But she didn't smile, she only sat there hugging him without a sound. Keeping secrets.

Author's Note: Here you are my Loyal Readers, another chapter and another to come soon. Stay tuned for the update to Three Days In A Nightmare, which should be up by Tuesday. I thank you for the kind reviews and hope you will keep posting them, they are the inspiration that keeps me writing. To those of you who flame though, I will now institute a new section at the end of each chapter entitled "The Extinguisher" in which I will try to explain my methods to you and address the elements of my fic you did not like. Hopefully this will educate you and show you why I did what I did. Please do not take this as encouragement to flame though. Positive reviews keep me going however, I will attempt to extinguish any flames I get.

The Extinguisher 

DevilMan, you seemed to not enjoy Leon's inner monologue, feeling that he would never be that "weak and stupid". I would like to point out that Leon is not your character so you are in no position to say how he would think. Nor is he my character but the best thing about being a writer is you can take an already existing character and add depth to their personality, changing them to better suit your vision. I made Leon "weak and stupid" or trouble in my words, so that there would be more depth to his personality and thus become a more intriguing character. If he were ready to face any problem and come up with a solution then he would be a boring character as there would be no internal challenges for him to face. This way his challenge is presented by an internal source where as Claire's comes from mainly an external source (her brother dying). In this way, both the main characters have their own demons to overcome and I feel this makes for a more interesting plot. I thank you for your criticism though and hope that you will continue to read and review my work in the future. I also hope you have found this somewhat enlightening.


	5. Wait

**Chapter 5: Wait**

Claire lay back on Leon's bed, starring up at the ceiling in the dark. She possessed no notion of how long she had sat on the floor of the bedroom sobbing and whimpering in his arms like a lost puppy, hours maybe but it could have been days for all she knew. Eventually she had managed to find the ability to speak and her first words had been ones to force her friend from the room. Claire had told him that she didn't need his help, that she'd be fine without it.

_'Men.' _The girl thought irritably, turning onto her side. _'Always trying to offer comfort even when you don't want it…even when you don't _need _it. They just _assume _that because you're a woman you'll need a shoulder to cry on.' _Well…maybe she did but that didn't give Leon any right to just _assume _it.

With a frustrated grunt Claire rolled back over onto her left side once more and shook the thought away. It wasn't fair Leon was only trying to help, only trying to be a good friend. Still, the thought had felt good. It felt good to feel angry, to feel anything except lost and broken and alone. Alone, that was the worst one of all.

There was another advantage to being angry though. Letting the hot, stinging rage bubble up inside her heart helped to burn away the memories that were plaguing her in the dark of Leon's apartment. So many memories, so much pain. She wished she could forget them all – forget her self along with them.

The recollections swirled through her head like a movie with no plot and no end, the images turning and rolling behind her eyes making Claire feel slightly dizzy. Pictures of Chris jumping a young boy in the schoolyard when they had both been children and one of the other kids had teased her. Memories of the times they used to sit out on the back patio of the Raccoon Police Department and have lunch together when she came down to visit, long before the city had become a living nightmare. They would sit on the back steps leading up to the department helipad and talk over coffee and cheap sandwiches bought in the cafeteria. Her brother would tell her about all the people in the department he knew, about all the cases he was working on, about how hard the training for S.T.A.R.S. had been. Chris Redfield had done so much with his life, touched so many people. _'What did I ever do?'_

The last memory, the last reel in the slide show of her mind, was always the most horrendous to watch. She was trapped in a dark space with the Steve Burnside's cold, pale hand clenched between her own. He was dead. He had been her friend, had saved her life more than once and now he was dead. _'Everyone I get close to always dies. They always leave me. Mom, dad, Steve…my own brother. Always.'_

Claire wasn't sure how long she had knelt there, holding Steve's frigid hand, starring into his glassy, lifeless eyes but she was certain that it would not be long before she shared his fate. Death would find her soon. All was lost and she would die, trapped in this wretched hole on a freezing continent holding the hand of a man – a boy really, a foolish boy – whose last words to her had been a confession of love. _'Everyone who says they love me always leaves me in the end, in the worst way. Forever.' _Then, somehow a door was being broken down and her brother, standing cloaked in the light outside like an angel was gathering her up in his strong arms, saying that everything would be alright now. She remembered feeling shielded, safe, the pain of Steve's death still fresh in her mind but somehow distant. Her brother was there and everything _would _be all right. He would keep her safe. Now, she would never feel that way again. _'Nothing will ever be all right again. Never.'_

A heavy, grating nose from the hall outside stirred Claire from her dark reverie. The faintest smile touched her lips when she realized that it was Leon's snoring. If there was only one thing she had learned about him during their time squatting in filthy hotels while on the run from Umbrella it was that Leon Scott Kennedy should have been a lumberjack. He could saw logs in his sleep.

Slowly, Claire rose from the mattress and crept stealthily out into the hallway where her host was resting. The hardwood flooring was like ice beneath her feet but the young woman hardly noticed, all physical sensations seemed muted and diluted now. Out in what would have been the living room – had Leon ever taken it upon himself to unpack and make the room look halfway presentable – she saw the young police officer stretched out across a tacky blue couch, a wool blanket pulled up to his waist allowing her to see the sweat stains that marred his white t-shirt.

Claire paused in mid-stride as she saw the look on her friend's face. His features, normally smooth and finely chiseled, were scrunched together as if recoiling from a rotten stench. His breathing was coming in heavy gasps and his lips twitched in a peculiar fashion. Every so often he would shake his head as if denying something that was simply impossible and moan a low, pathetic wail of fear and panic. She sighed, he was dreaming again.

The younger Redfield knew her friend's dreams well – she suspected they were much like the ones she had experienced for months after leaving the burning city behind. Dreams of being chased through streets that seemed to go on without end by stumbling mobs of what had once been people and now were merely shells of flesh seeking to feast upon the living. Dreams of racing through a twisting labyrinth beneath the sewers of Raccoon, all the while a cool female voice with all the compassion of a block of granite counted down the time until your doom. Sometimes the prospect of sleep had seemed more terrifying than the prospect that an assassin was creeping down the fire escape of your flat. There was no way to defend your self against nightmares.

Kneeling down quietly so as not to disturb his rest, Claire reached out and gently took hold of Leon's trembling hand. His fingers quickly wound themselves through her own, grasping her hand as a drowning man might grasp a life preserver. Gingerly, Claire used her free hand to smooth back the bangs from Leon's forehead, it was frigid in the apartment but his forehead was soaked with sweat.

"Shh, it's okay." She whispered in his ear, the irony not lost on her that only moments ago he had tried to say the same thing to her and she had told him to leave her alone. "I'm here now."

Leon mumbled something unintelligible from the depths of sleep but at least those anguished, horrid moans had subsided. After a couple minutes the young man resettled himself among the couch cushions, his breath slowing back to normal, the twitch gone from his lips. Claire gently smoothed the hair back from his face once more and the creases of worry and fright ceased to spoil his delicate features.

Claire released his hand with a sigh. The man would need his rest after having to put up with her all day. How he must have hated her. She just shows up at his work, sniveling like a child and demanding a ride and now he had taken her into his home, tried to comfort her, and what thanks had she given him? Nothing but a few harsh words that she didn't want his help. A woman like her didn't deserve his generosity or his friendship. Leon deserved better than that. Nodding determinedly to herself Claire made up her mind. She would not be a burden to anyone anymore – least of all Leon Kennedy.

"I'm sorry Leon." She said, resting her head on his shoulder and speaking in a low whisper. She wanted him to remain asleep, he would only try and talk her out of what she was about to do and as much as it pained Claire to admit it, if she gave him the chance he would probably succeed…and regret it later. When she got _him _killed instead, when she made him leave her forever. She knew it would happen, she needed only to reference her life to point out the fact that she was cursed. "If you don't believe anything ever again, please believe that. I want you to be happy." Giving his hand a final squeeze, savoring the warm feel of his skin against hers, she rose and turned to the table beside the couch.

_'Steady, predictable Leon.' _Claire thought with a wry smile that touched her lips but came nowhere near her eyes as she surveyed the contents of the table. There was his black leather wallet, a set of keys on a key chain of the Irish flag, some spare change, a pen – his pocketknife. Leon always did have the habit of dumping out his pockets near his bed so that he'd be able to shovel the things back into their rightful spots the next morning. _'I'm sorry Leon. Please don't blame yourself.' _With a firm hand she reached out and took hold of the pocketknife.

New tears already burning in the back of her eyes, Claire retreated to the room Leon had given up for her so readily. _'Please, just let him sleep.' _The mattress squeaked beneath her weight and Claire looked up, straining her ears, desperately fearing the man in the other room might awake. She waited one minute, then two, but he never awoke, never made a sound. Closing her eyes, the last surviving Redfield snapped the thin blade into place.

A new memory surface at the _click_ of the steel locking. Claire was suddenly very young again, only six or seven but she was overjoyed. She had just learned how to ride her bike even if it meant only being allowed to ride it within her own neighborhood. She had laughed as hard as her little lungs could manage as she rode in wild circles outside her house, the wind blowing her hair back, the sun shinning down on her, she had felt so free. Her laugh quickly changed to a gasp though when her foot slipped, missing the pedal and sending her head over heels to the pavement below.

She had opened her eyes a moment later, and screamed when she saw the state of her knee. A layer of skin had been scrapped clean off, crimson blood flowing steadily out of the wound, making her shin sticky with blood. Oh, how it had hurt! Like a thousand bumblebee stings – what she would have imagined them to feel like at least. For a moment the child's mind had gone into overdrive at the sensation of so much pain and little Claire Redfield thought she might die.

"What's wrong sis?" Even as a young man, barely a teenager, Chris Redfield had always possessed a deep voice. "I had my window open upstairs and I heard you – ouch." He had trailed off, grimacing at the sight of his sister's leg.

"Am…am I gonna die?" Claire had asked, sucking her teeth to quell the pain a little. She sniffed, swallowing back tears. Amazing Chris had smiled at her then, taking her hand in his and giving it a quick pat.

"No, but mom probably won't let you ride again until your twenty." Chris's smile told her everything would be fine. He'd fix her leg up and protect her from their mother as well. She would be none too happy when she found out Claire had been riding too fast. "I'm going to go get some bandages. Just wait here okay? I promise I'll be back soon. Just wait for me."

"Just wait." Claire repeated the words to her self with a small smile tears rolling freely down her cheeks now. Chris had come back and he had patched her leg up as he had promised. Chris always kept his promises. "Just wait there for me, okay big bro? I'm coming. Just wait. Please wait."

The point of the knife bit into the tender flesh of her wrist and Claire gave a sharp wince, the pain would only last a moment though and then she would be free of pain for all time. She racked Leon's pocketknife slowly across her arm, surprised to see such a large amount of blood flow out of such a minute-looking wound. In only a few moments light-headedness took her over and her eyelids felt as if they were weighted down with blocks of lead. The knife clattered to the floor – she had not even realized the item had fallen from her hand. Then her knees thumped painfully to the floor – how long until she would never have to experience pain again? Finally with a heavy sigh, she collapsed to that cold, icy floor with a dull _thud. _Something strange happened then, as the world began to spin away from her. Claire was quite sure her last thought before death came to take her would be of her brother but instead it was for Leon.

_'I love you, Leon.' _ Claire thought, taking in what she hoped would be her last breath. _'I love you and you deserve better than that.'_ She exhaled and the darkness stole over her.

With a start, Leon shot awake; his whole body aching from the innumerable places that damn couch had poked and prodded him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the couch the officer rose to a sitting position and rubbed the back of his neck while waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. What a peculiar dream he had had.

As scary as it was to admit, Leon had started becoming used to the recurring nightmare he was forced to watch each and every time he try to catch so much as a wink of sleep. A dream of drowning in a sea of bodies, bodies with dead, white eyes and peeling arms that kept trying to pull him down. They were all dead really, just husks of flesh and bone that had once been people, now devoid of souls and seeking to consume anything left alive. They scratched and pulled at his legs, wailing with hunger and bloodlust. He had screamed, and kicked and thrashed about, trying to rise above them but always they were too many and too strong. The dream always ended the same way, with him being inevitably dragged under and awaking in a cold sweat, panting and shaking. This time however, something strange had happened.

Near what should have been the end of the nightmare, he had thrown his hands out clutching at the darkness, knowing it was futile but not ready to give into death yet. He clawed feebly at the air, the undead below him groaning in their triumph – and a hand caught his. Stranger still there had been something familiar about the hand - with it's smooth, slender fingers - that had reached out of the blackness to take his own. Light, warming and reassuring had flooded his tired body, destroyed the horde of dead creatures below him. From somewhere in that glimmering golden light a voice spoke _'It's okay. I'm here now.' _

"What was that all about?" Leon muttered to himself silently. Self-analysis had never been his strong suit and the dream could have meant a hundred different things. Maybe he was going crazy, maybe he had eaten something that had disagreed with him. Who knew?

Abruptly, a tremor ran through the studio apartment and Leon felt his heart skip a beat. Something heavy crashed to the floor in his room. Claire's room. He was on his feet in an instant, racing down the hall. When he finally arrived in the doorway he felt his stomach jump up into his throat.

Each piece of the scene before him flashed in front of Leon's eyes like a jigsaw puzzle, the sheer shock of it all forcing his mind to take the time to place each piece of that puzzle into place. Claire lying on the floor by the bed barely breathing; blood streaming from her wrist down her arm, her face so pale and streaked with tears. There was a pocketknife beside her the slender blade caked with drying blood. _His _knife. His fault.

"No." Leon said, sagging to his knees beside her and feeling the girl's neck for a pulse. He found one after a moment, a weak one. He looked down at the slash on her wrist, spilling out her life. Such a small wound. Nothing that small could harm Claire Redfield. "No, please, God not her."

Thinking quickly – no small feat with his mind racing, thoughts and fears screaming about in his skull – Leon reached up and tore the pillows out of their casings, wrapping the light material around Claire's wrist and tying off the crude bandage to stop the flow of blood. So much blood. Lifeblood.

Leon feared to leave his friend there, bleeding on the floor but he did not dare move her, unaware of how secure the tourniquet was. Dashing into the kitchen he seized up the portable phone, the blood covering his hands making it hard to dial but he didn't care. With shaking fingers he dialed 911 and with a shaking voice screamed that he needed help. That someone was dying. That they had to get there soon before slamming the receiver down and charging back into the room. Claire was still there, still breathing – thank God – still alive. Falling down beside her, Leon took Claire's other hand and held it tight, smoothing back long locks of auburn hair with his other.

"It's going to be okay." He said, choking on the words as tears threatened to break out from his behind his eyes. When had he last cried, the officer wondered, surely not since Ada had died, not since she had let go while hanging over that bridge. "It's going to be okay. The paramedics will be here soon."

_'My fault, I should have watched her closer.' _Leon said, feeling a great deal like screaming and tearing out the hair by the roots but what good would that do? He just sat there, smoothing Claire's hair with a trembling hand wishing he spoke another language so that he could pray to God in another tongue in case He didn't understand English so well…it was a preposterous thought but Leon didn't care. All he cared about lay on the floor of his apartment, bleeding her life out. _'All my fault.' _

"Please Claire," he said, voice as broken and strained as Chris Redfield's had been back in Saint Jude's. Where the hell were the paramedics? Didn't they know she was going to die? Didn't they _care_? "Please, I promised your brother to look after you." The tears were falling from Leon's eyes now, unchecked and unnoticed. "Please, I _promised. _Please don't make a liar out of me. _Please,_ please help me, I don't know what to do." Why were they taking so long? "They'll be here soon Claire." Her face was so pale, so cold. Why wouldn't she smile at him? Would she ever smile at him again? "Just wait. Just wait."

Author's Note: I'd like to apologize for my long hiatus but I'm back now and here is the new installment of Come Clean. I hope you enjoy, my Readers. I'd also like to apologize for any grammatical mistakes that may pop out at you while reading. Spell check seems to work but grammar check is less effective. Please enjoy and look for an update to Three Days In A Nightmare soon as well.


	6. The World Between Worlds

**Chapter 6: The World Between Worlds**

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _Leon shut his eyes maybe if he did that he could just drown out the incessant drone of the machines monitoring Claire's condition. _Beep. Beep. Beep. _Nope, the noise was still there boring a hole through his skull. To Leon's ears the sounds of the monitors was akin to mocking laughter. Each _beep, beep, beep, _sounded more like _ha, ha, ha._ He couldn't save her and somehow this place knew it.

Everything about Saint Jude's Hospital seemed to mock him; seemed to belie the true situation. The room the girl – a victim of her own hand – rested in was much like the one her brother had occupied only a day ago. Pristine white tile flooring and walls the color of pearls made the small area shine. The sun's golden arms stretched in through a pair of spotless white drapes and bathed them both in what should have been soothing warm light but Leon wished it had been pitch dark and the room encrusted with filth. Then it would have suited the mood of death and despair, of utter hopelessness, that seemed to be consuming his soul with every _beep, beep _of the machines. The place was so clean, so pure and yet lying amongst the soft cushions of her bed, looking deep asleep, the strongest woman Leon knew was slipping away from him. By her own hand.

Reaching across from his seat beside her bed Leon took her small hand – the one without the bandage wrapped about the wrist – in his larger one. It was just the two of them in the room, he had not gotten around to telling the others of this tragedy yet, not with Chris' death so close in their hearts. News of his sister's attempted – _'God let it stay as just an attempt!' ­_– suicide would only send them deeper into the abyss of grief and loss. Besides, Claire had never really cared for big crowds. They made her nervous she had told him once.

"Just me and you then, kid." Leon said with a small smile, smoothing the hair back from Claire's pale face. While he spoke the words to her the officer knew he might as well have been speaking to himself. Wherever she was now – stuck in the world between worlds, between life and death – she couldn't hear him but he had to say something. Leon was sure if he was forced to listen to nothing but the laughter of the monitors he would go mad. "Just me and you. Just like old times. You remember those times don't you, Claire?"

Silence. Nothing but the _beep, beep, beep _to be heard. Claire's face was shut and deathly pale but she could have been napping if not for the bloody gauze wrapped about her wrist. She was dying. She was dying and there was nothing Leon Kennedy – sworn to protect and serve – could do to help her. That was funny, he thought, his second time in Saint Jude's and once again he felt completely and utterly useless.

Why couldn't she just wake up and smile at him? It must have been an eternity since last he had seen that warm, glowing smile split her face. Why couldn't _he _just wake up and discover it had all been another of the horrid nightmares that had plagued him ever since Raccoon City? Why could he not just shoot up in his bed, blanketed in a sheen of sweat, screaming like he had so many other nights and then Claire would be there at his side with a gentle hand on his shoulder, assuring him that everything was alright. It was only a dream, she would tell him, lie down and get some sleep. Leon didn't think he would ever sleep again after this.

"How could you do this to me?" Leon said, the mad cackle of the monitors seemed louder now and the annoyance of the noise in his ears only helped to feed the rage burning in his heart. Fury gnawed inside him, threatening to turn every fiber of his being into ash with its heat. Didn't she know how he felt about her? He had never told her outright, no, but…still she just _should _have known. "What am I supposed to do without you? Six years we've been together and now you just want to up and leave like this? No way. You owe me, Claire. I saved your life in that diner in Raccoon City. You _owe _me. Do you understand that? Now you _wake up_ and smile at me!"

Nothing. Silence. Leon's hand quivered on her cool forehead and felt his lips doing the same. His eyes burned, the anger inside him burned. How _dare _she make him cry! How _dare _she make him care this much, it wasn't fair, it was unjust. A choking sob escaped Leon's lips and he felt the inferno in his chest blown away in one swift gust. No…no she was not the one to blame here. Not Claire. It was his knife she had used. He should have watched over her better.

"I'm so sorry, Claire." The young man said, not bothering to wipe away the tears streaming through the thick hair on his cheeks. He squeezed her hand harder. "It's my fault. I'm not angry with you, I'm angry with myself. I promised your brother to look after you. I…I should have paid closer attention. I should have stayed up all night with you. I gave up. You never gave up on me after I dropped Ada, no matter how many times I sent you way you came back. It's my fault. I quit on you."

What a failure he was, Leon thought, a sob sending a tremor through him as he rested his hand on the cold guardrail of her bed – cold like her hand. There had only ever been two women in his life that he had felt so strongly for and he had let them both down. Ada died when he let her drop off that bridge – true she had chosen to let go of his hand but there was still more he could have done…should have done…should have been able to do – even if he did not know what at the moment. First Ada and now Claire. Claire was as good as d- _'No! No she's not! Not her! I'm not going to quit again. Ada made a choice. She chose to let go and there was nothing I could do about it but this is different. I won't give up on Claire this time. I won't let her choose to end it this way. Maybe…maybe if I just keep talking…'_

Words were coming out of the young officer's mouth before he was even aware he was speaking. He spoke of positive things Claire had never liked to dwell on the negative. She used to stick her tongue out at him when he had moved on to a subject she deemed too dreary. "No one likes a pessimist, Leon," she would say and he would find himself smiling.

"It'll be Christmas soon." He told her, smiling. If she woke up while he spoke he wanted her to find him smiling at her – no accusation, no anger. "I was thinking that I could book some time off work…take my vacation early and we could go up to Quebec for their Winter Carnival. You always told me you wanted to see it some day. I know Barry has a cabin somewhere up in Canada maybe I could get him to lend it to us. How's that sound? Not a bad way to spend a holiday right?"

Claire lay in place, silent as a stone. The machines laughed at him. The room so pure, so clean, made Leon want to tear his hair out and utter every curse he knew. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Leon tightened his grip around the girl's fingers.

"Please Claire," he said, cupping one of her cheeks in his hand. Her skin was so cold, like winter's heart. "I don't know what to do. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, I swear but you have to help me, I can't do it on my own." Suddenly he fixed her stoney face with a firm look. Why did she have to make this so hard? "I won't let you go. Never. You're going to stay with me Claire. You're not going to make this easy on me so I won't make it easy on you. You _are _staying with me."

Leon paused, starring down and watching as his friend slipped steadily away from him. _'You can't save her,' _his mind chided mercilessly, _'you couldn't save Ada, or David or John. You're useless Kennedy. Protect and serve the public? That's a joke, you can't even protect your friends. You should take the easy way out too – just fling yourself off a bridge or eat a bullet. You'd be doing everyone a favor.' _Leon picked his head up. Easy way out? He had survived Raccoon City with the undead and a host of other horrors jumping at him from around every corner. He had survived the Utah facility when a madman had locked him and two others in Umbrella's own sick little obstacle course, complete with creatures that could fly and spit acid. He had survived the final raid on the European HQ where he faced off against the full force of the corporations military might. Easy way out? Nothing about his life had been easy. _'No. I've felt sorry for myself long enough. I'll never take the easy way out. I'm a survivor and so is Claire. Ada took the easy way out. Claire is better than she could ever be and she's a survivor. I won't let her take the easy way out. Not now. Not ever.'_

"You listen to me, Claire." Leon said, voice hard as granite, gripping the girl's cheek tight in his palm. "You fight. I don't care how hard it is, you fight right now. You're going to survivor, never once have you rolled over and said die. So you _fight. _You've lived through too much to go out this way. Fight. You're a fighter Claire, you showed me that a hundred times. Now fight! _Fight_! _FIGHT_!"

Leon knew he must have sounded like a raving lunatic to anyone passing by the room but he didn't care. It didn't matter what anyone thought of him as long as he had Claire back. He would give up anything to have her wake, to have her smile at him once. He watched her, silently urging her to fight over and over again in his head…but she just lay there looking so hauntingly peaceful, so hauntingly beautiful. She was sleeping. She was dying.

"I know you can do it, Claire. Please." What more could he say? What more could he do? He wouldn't give up, not this time, not when Claire needed him. There had to be something more he could do, something more he could say. Something. Something… "I love you, Claire." The words seemed to spill out of his mouth all on their own but that didn't mean he meant them any less. "I love you more than anything in my life. Now, please, you have to wake up. You have to wake up for me."

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _The laughed of the monitors rose to a shrieking din amid the silence that followed. Slowly, Leon lowered his head onto Claire's shoulder and began to weep. _'That which is lost can never be reclaimed.' _Leon cried for everything he was about to lose.

Death was a strange experience for Claire Redfield. While she had not known exactly what to expect she was under the impression that there should have been bright lights or harp music or _something _to assure her that she was, in fact, dead. Instead, she found herself drifting through an endless black void – much like the one in the nightmares she had about Steve Burnside.

There was surreal feeling to the void as if it were a kind of dream. No, it was more like a state than a dream. Limbo. That's where she was – the world in between worlds. Claire had no form here, no shape, only a sense of being. A sense that one way in the nothingness lead to death and the other way lead to life. Where was Chris, she wondered, why hadn't he come for her yet?

"_Just me and you then, kid." _A voice spoke from somewhere outside the dark void. A familiar voice, Leon's maybe? Claire was not certain. "_Just me and you. Just like old times. You remember those times don't you, Claire?_"

Old times. Yes, Claire Redfield remembered a great deal about the long years before she had wound up drifting along this sea of darkness. She remembered days and weeks spent squatting in dingy motels and vermin infested apartment buildings with a young police officer – well, he _would _have been a police officer anyways – named Leon Kennedy. Claire remembered the many nights she had spent crying herself to sleep in his lap, with him running calloused fingers through her hair, because the dark had brought back so many painful memories. Claire recalled laughing with him when he had teased her good-naturedly about not being able to prepare cereal properly; she recalled throwing up her arms in the air and yelling at the foolish man when he was being stubborn. She recalled being terrified when Leon would lock himself away in his room for hours, brooding over the death of a woman whom she knew only by name, and feeling such relief when he had reappeared unharmed that she flung her arms around his neck, not caring how perplexed he had looked.

Those memories hurt a great deal – not because they were unpleasant but because of all the emotions mixed up in them: fear and joy, heartache and compassion and a host of others. So much emotion, it made Claire – wherever she was – fill with nostalgia, with a wish that she could go back to those times when hope had seemed so tangible and real. But no, those times were long passed. She had to let them go. She had to leave. She _had _to.

"_How could you do this to me?_" The voice spoke again and it was distinctly Leon's. She would never forget the way his normally light tone would dip ever so slightly when he sounded cross and the angrier he was the lower his voice became. Right now, it sounded to be coming from around his ankles. "_What am I supposed to do without you? Six years we've been together and now you just want to up and leave like this? No way. You owe me, Claire. I saved your life in that diner in Raccoon City. You owe me. Do you understand that? Now you _wake up_ and smile at me!_"

Her friend's words struck Claire as odd. She had never, in all the time she knew the man, heard him speak like _that. _He had never sounded so furious, so broken but it was more than that as well. What he was saying simply made no sense.

What was he to do without her? Anything. He could do anything now without her to hold him back and drag him down. Didn't he understand that she had no choice that she _had _to leave him this way, to make it easy on them both? True he _had _saved her life back in Raccoon City but what she was doing now would save his life. Those whom she got closest to always died. Always. She most certainly did _not _understand. Why did he care if she smiled at him?

"_I'm so sorry, Claire_." Leon's voice was much different now. Strangled and desperate, again, she had never heard him sound like that. Why the sudden change in tone? He went from white-hot rage to frigid sorrow in a heartbeat. "_It's my fault. I'm not angry with you, I'm angry with myself. I promised your brother to look after you. I…I should have paid closer attention. I should have stayed up all night with you. I gave up. You never gave up on me after I dropped Ada, no matter how many times I sent you way you came back. It's my fault. I quit on you."_

Why was he saying all this? She didn't blame him for anything that happened, none of it was his fault. Everything that had taken place had been _her _choice. Didn't he see that? And the way he prattled on about what she had done for him after Raccoon City made her sound like some kind of superhero. She was only concerned about a friend, worried what he might do as guilt over this…this Ada person…ate him up inside. He had done the same for her countless times after the debacle on Rockfort Island.

Claire wished she had a nose in this place so she could wrinkle it in irritation. This was just like Leon, always trying to pin the responsibility on himself, trying to weigh him down with it to prove he was strong. She _knew _he was strong – stronger than she could ever be – she didn't need him to prove it but the man would never believe in himself. She wished he would. He was making things so difficult now, so confusing. _Please stop talking. _She urged him silently for she had no voice inside the void.

"_It'll be Christmas soon_." Leon's voice was brighter now but still with a tinge of effort to it, as if it pained him to speak. _Please stop, talking Leon._ He could not hear her though and so he went on in that choked tone. "_I was thinking that I could book some time off work…take my vacation early and we could go up to Quebec for their Winter Carnival. You always told me you wanted to see it some day. I know Barry has a cabin somewhere up in Canada maybe I could get him to lend it to us. How's that sound? Not a bad way to spend a holiday right?_"

More memories began to surface as those words faded. Claire and Leon stretched out on a couch in some crumbling flat while hiding out in Montreal. They had been watching Global News when a commercial came up advertising the Winter Carnival to be held in the next city in a few months. It had all looked so wonderful: castles of ice, men and women in costumes skating along frozen lakes, and fireworks bursting in the sky in brilliant hues of red and blue and purple. It had been Claire that had suggested returning to attend it once Umbrella had been taken care of. She was surprised Leon still remembered that, it had been almost a year ago.

"_Please Claire_," Leon's tone was pleading now, almost as if he was begging with her and that scared the girl deeply. Leon was never the type to beg with anyone…for anything. "_I don't know what to do. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, I swear but you have to help me, I can't do it on my own."_

God, why was he saying all these things? _You can do anything on your own, Leon, you above all others. _Claire thought the words she could not speak and knew that if she had eyes in this place they would be clouded with tears by now. _You have to let me go now though. You have to do that on your own. I'm so sorry for making it so hard but you have to._

"_I won't let you go. Never. You're going to stay with me Claire. You're not going to make this easy on me so I won't make it easy on you. You _are_ staying with me_." The young man's voice was solid now, all traces of weakness lost as if he were stating irrefutable facts and Claire felt startled. Surely he couldn't hear her thoughts? No, that was impossible.

The stubborn fool, couldn't he see what she was doing was for his own good? Couldn't he see she did it because she loved him? Why did he have to make it so hard; have to make her want to give up and come back to him and feel safe again. Where was Chris, she wondered again, why hadn't he come to save her from all this misery and uncertainty? Didn't he love her anymore?

"_You listen to me, Claire_." His voice, sounding made of stone yet still as gentle as his fingers were when they had stroked her hair while she cried bitterly during those long nights on the run, drew the girl's mind back to him. Back to one end of the void. Leon could be as persistent as Chris was – as he had been – sometimes. "_You fight. I don't care how hard it is, you fight right now. You're going to survivor, never once have you rolled over and said die. So you fight. You've lived through too much to go out this way. Fight. You're a fighter Claire, you showed me that a hundred times. Now fight! _FightFIGHT!"

Surely, he could not have been talking about her. Claire had never been strong or brave she had merely done what she had to do at the time. She had never done anything beyond what any other person would have done. Her brother had been a brave man. Leon Kennedy _was _a brave man.

Still, his words made the young woman want to fight and she hated him for it. Who was he to make her want to give up so easily? She just wanted to be free of despair and grief…to let him be free of despair and grief. Why did he have to care about her so much? She was not deserving of it, certainly. Still…suddenly she did want to fight. To beat against that darkness until it shattered to dust and wake in bed with Leon smiling down at her. No, she hoped he was glowering at – enraged at her for showing such selfishness whatever he motives had been at the time. It was no less than she deserved.

"_I know you can do it, Claire. Please_." Could she do it? She wanted to, now more than ever. But could she? Could she give up on Chris, give up all the agony and remorse dwelling in her soul and go back to a man who was hanging onto her with everything he had? A man who had said he would never let her go. She wanted to.

"_I love you, Claire_." Leon's words were soft as if whispered and Claire was not certain she had heard him right at first. No, surely she was mistaken. But even the though – even the fantasy – that he had really said such a thing to her was enough to fuel her desire to fly from that suffocating black void. Could she though? Did she have the strength left in her? She had seemed so weak lately, not at all like she remembered herself being at one time.

"_I love you more than anything in my life_." She had heard right that time. Leon loved her and she had tried to tear herself away from him in the most violent way. Oh, how she hated herself at that moment, how badly she desired to weep. Pushing against the void, she tested her might. Did she have the strength in her anymore?

"_Now, please, you have to wake up. You have to wake up for me_."

For him. She had the strength for him.

With his head on her arm, sobbing wretchedly against her shoulder, Leon thought the endless laughter of the monitors must have finally driven him insane when he felt the smooth, slender fingers plow softly through his hair. He had to be imagining things, he thought, crazy people always did but then he hesitantly raised his head and saw Claire Redfield smiling down at him. Her eyes were wide, alert and consumed with guilt. Leon could have jumped a foot through the roof as joy crashed over him in a wondrous wave. Wiping tears hastily from his eyes and painting on as genuine a smile as he could muster the young officer smoothed the girl's bangs back from her forehead for the hundredth time.

"Hey there," he said lamely, a lingering sob making him choke on the words, "enjoy your nap?"

Claire laughed weakly, the guilt seeming to burn in her gray eyes now. "A little longer than I would have liked but I do feel refreshed." She snorted suddenly and tugged on the point of his scruffy beard. "You could have at least shaved this awful thing off before coming to see me, Leon." She teased but those eyes, so full of pain and self-blame belied her weak smile.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, missy." Her friend laughed but his smile quickly faded into a frown. "If you ever scare me like that again I'll wring your neck, Claire."

"I know." She nodded sadly, looking at the end of the bed as her cheeks began to color. "Leon, I-I wanted to thank you…thank you for everything you've done for me. I'm sorry. Please, believe that I'm so sorry for seeming so ungrateful and um doing what I did."

"Don't apologize, Claire." Leon gripped her hand tightly in his, relieved to feel the warmth of life and energy flowing back through the girl once more. It seemed only a minute ago she had been colder than ice. "You're back now and that's all I care about. We can talk about…about this later. Everything's fine now though okay? I won't let anything happen to you again. I won't."

Again, Claire nodded before twining her fingers through Leon's. "While I was sleeping I…I could hear your voice."

This time it was Leon's turn to grow red and drop his gaze. He looked up again after a moment with a weak laugh. "Hope you didn't hear me say anything bad about ya." He smiled.

"No," She said, returning his smile with luster, some of the guilt fading from her large, gray eyes. "No, I heard just what I needed to."

Leon let out a surprised gasp as Claire threw her arms about his neck with violence and grabbed the hair at the back of his head with an almost animalistic ferocity, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Taking a moment to recover from his friend's sudden embrace, Leon wound his arms around her slender figure and gently stroked her back. _'I'll never let you go.' _ He thought, repeating the words aloud into her ear. "I'll never let you go."

With her arms secured tightly around Leon and her face buried against the soft flesh of his neck, Claire contented herself with merely sitting there, drinking in the officer's clean, soapy scent and the warmth of his hold. He was right, she was back now and everything was going to be fine. Sitting there, listening to the steady _thump _of Leon's heart Claire Redfield, so wracked by fear and loss, grief and despair, felt that life might be worth living after all.

Author's Note: Here you are my Readers. I hope you enjoy this chapter and pray that you will continue to review my work, as feedback is what keeps me inspired and writing. Stayed tuned for the next installment of Come Clean soon and for those of you reading Three Days In A Nightmare as well, a new update for that should be available on the site shortly. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.


	7. Changes

**Chapter 7: Changes**

The paper trembled in Claire's hand. In truth, it had been such a short time since…since everything: Chris death, her attempted suicide; that she knew she shouldn't be looking at it again. Now that she held the glossy images in her hand though, the young woman found herself hypnotized by the two people smiling back at her and she could do nothing to pull her gaze away.

It struck Claire as odd that the two people in the set of four photos taken at a photo booth in a mall in Upper Lansing could be her and her brother, both smiling and laughing and full of life. It seemed like quite some time since the last time she had laughed – genuinely laughed. Not since the picnic with Leon almost five months ago, back when her brother was sick but she could still deny that he was getting worse. _'Just a bug, I told myself, just a little bug and he'd be back on his feet in no time. I knew it was a lie then but it was comforting at least.' _

A smile touched Claire's quivering lips as she ran shaking fingers over the top picture, the one she liked the best of the four. Chris held her in a headlock, his strong bicep wrapped around her neck, giggling like a boy as she pried feebly at that thick arm, smiling too because she knew it was another of Chris' macho jokes. Even as children whenever they would play fight her brother had always held back. In the end, whenever she would flip him onto his back and twist his arm, accusing him of making it too easy he would insist that he had used his full strength but the girl knew better. Chris would never do anything that would even risk her being harmed, it was why he hadn't left her behind during the raid on the European Umbrella HQ, and it was why he held that headlock a lot more lightly than it looked. He always thought she was so delicate. What an ironic twist that had become.

_'You were the one who looked delicate in the end big bro.' _She thought sadly, barely able to hold the photo strip now. Shaking like a frightened mouse as she was. _'Lying in that bed, barely able to hold your head up. You looked so pale, so wan as if a stiff breeze would break you in half. I remember when I thought you could walk through a wall of stone and come out the other side without a mark but there you were in that hospital room, full of tubes and wires like some kind of robot, hardly able to breathe let alone speak. I remember when I thought you could move a mountain just by looking at it hard enough, you were always stubborn enough that I figured the mountain would give up the starring match. I remember…I remember a lot of things, Chris.'_

Unshed tears stung at the back of her eyes and Claire finally managed to tear them from the pictures. Shaking her hair from side to side, the girl quieted the voice in her head. She needed only to glance at the bandage wrapped around her wrist to know where that line of thinking would invariably lead and she would not go down that path again. Leon had made her promise and despite whatever she had become in recent days Claire Redfield was not a liar.

Sighing, Claire tucked the strip of photos into the oak nightstand by Leon's bed on which she now sat and slide the drawer shut. It was time to start making changes. Her brother was dead and as much as it hurt – and it hurt like hell – that was her past now, nothing could be done to change it. Still, that did not mean there was no future for her. There was, even if it was a future without Chris, a dimmer future than most but not entirely without light anymore.

The bed springs squealed their displeasure below her as more weight was added to the bed and a pair of hands tentatively took hold of her slender shoulders. Claire didn't need to turn around to know that it was Leon's hands on her arms, she would have known all the same even if he hadn't been the only other person in the apartment. The way his hands twitched a moment before grasping her shoulders, as if unsure whether or not she would whirl and slap him for doing so, was clue enough. She sighed, resting her hands in the lap of her jeans after smoothing the creases in her red t-shirt. _'Leon, my boy, you'll never learn.' _

His uncertainty was a new habit, one he had adopted in the week since she had been released from the hospital. Whenever she came around the young officer would tense up and shift into what she had come to think of as "Question Mode". How are you Claire? Do you need anything, Claire? Do you want to talk about anything, Claire? Can I take you anywhere, Claire? She couldn't blame him for that though, if their positions were reversed she would have been doing the same she knew.

That was precisely the reason she never blamed him for being far from her side either. No matter where she was, Claire would have wagered a dollar to doughnuts that she could throw a penny around the corner and hit Leon square in the forehead. Since her release from the hospital he had even been watching her sleep, as if afraid of the ideas that might filter into her head while shut away in the dark of his bedroom. Oh, he would come in after her breathing had grown a little heavier but the Redfield family was famous for it's light sleepers and she had always been aware of the sound of his breathing beside her bed. Funny, she thought, that she had not suffered one nightmare since her release.

Sometimes, her friend's near heroic efforts to keep an eye on her made the young woman want to cry anew. She was unaware of what the emotion behind such tears would be – not necessarily joy and certainly not sadness – but she had put the man through hell with her selfishness – despite however understanding he was she knew it had been selfishness – and yet he was still there, with only concern over her. Simply put, it was just…touching. Yes, that was all.

"You don't have to do that." Claire said, starring at her hands.

"Do what?" Leon asked dumbfounded and Claire heaved a tiny laugh. It was just like him not to realize his own habits even when they were hanging down in front of his face.

"Act like I'm some kind of a viper." She sighed, occupying her hands with smoothing her shirt again. Claire still wasn't sure if she could meet Leon's eyes yet. Not after all that had happened, all that had been confessed between the two. In the time since returning to his apartment she had been terrified of all the fury and accusation she would have to meet when starring the man in the face but when she finally built up the courage to do so there had been none of either present in his blue eyes. Only concern and a kind of yearning and those eyes truly cut deep in those moments. She almost wished he had been furious with her, that would have _much _easier to deal with. "I won't bite your hand if you try and touch me. I don't mind, honestly, you should know that by now."

"Oh," he said behind her, sounding as if his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth, "I-I know that. It's just that whenever I move to touch you…I…." It was his turn to heave a short laugh. "I don't know why I flinch like that. Maybe I just get nervous around pretty girls?"

Claire wanted to smile at that, she truly did, but she simply couldn't bring herself to it. "I know why you do that." She said simply, keeping her head down. "You twitch like that when you reach for me because it's like you're moving to touch a different person – an entirely different person – and you don't know how they're going to react."

"That's not true, Claire." Leon answered, and she was a little surprised at how quickly he did so. "You're still the same person I've known for – what – half a decade? No, a little more than that. You're still at least ten times quicker than me up here," he touched a finger to the side of her head, "not to mention ten times better looking. You're still as gentle and generous as the time when we had to take care of Sherry while on the run. Oh, and you are _definitely _still as stubborn as the day I met you. Remember when I got back from Germany? God, I don't think I've ever been bruised from a tongue lashing before!"

Claire did laugh a little at that. She remembered the day well waiting for them all to return at the airport, ready to snap off everyone's head for leaving her behind but Leon's in particular. The man was supposed to be her _friend _and he had just rushed off to another country, on an almost suicidal mission, without so much as one word to her where she was going. Oh yes, she remembered standing there tapping her foot, ready to leap down his throat in _particular. _And Chris' as course. He had committed the same sin as Leon Kennedy.

Then she had watched them all slowly begin to filter out of the plane, Leon had been first – good, she would be able to get on with it that much quicker – and then she had seen the sling his arm was wrapped in. The same arm he had injured while running around the sewers in Raccoon City. It had been at that point that she felt her anger really begin to boil and remembered feeling astounded that steam was not pouring out of her ears. Not only had the man run off with her brother to Europe without telling her but he had the nerve to get _hurt _as well? How _dare _he!

"I don't think I was even down the steps before you rushed out and let me have what for." Leon chuckled. "I thought about jumping over those stairs and just bolting for it when I saw your eyes. One look and I knew you were on the war path."

"Well, it was what you deserved." Claire replied and found herself laughing too. "Maybe I was a little harsh on you though. I don't think I spoke to you for three weeks after that, I was so mad."

"Hey," he said and Claire knew by his light tone that Leon was smiling. He was always smiling when his voice sounded like that. "You came around eventually didn't you?"

"Yeah." She said and smiled. It was good to know she still had a few good memories rolling around amid all the dark ones. Suddenly, she found herself wiping her arm across damp eyes. No, she was through crying, she wouldn't cry anymore. "Nothing's ever easy is it, Leon?"

He laughed, actually laughed at that before reaching up to smooth her hair with one hand. Claire thought Leon had nice hands, strong and calloused but still smooth in places. She wondered what had made her think of that. "Not in my experience, no." He said. "But things aren't always as hard as they seem. Especially when there are people there to help you get through them."

The young woman sighed again, turning her hands over and over again in her lap. "My brother's dead," she said and felt Leon stiffen behind her, "I think I can deal with that…now, eventually, but it still hurts and I know there's going to be a lot of changes. _I'm _going to change."

"Everybody changes." He said softly, and she felt his chin press down atop her head. She eased back to rest against his chest.

"Not always for the good, though." She countered, closing her eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. No, she wouldn't cry. She had promised herself that.

"No." He said. "No, not always, but I have faith in you. I have faith in you above all others, Claire, that you'll do the right thing. Always."

Again, she laughed. How could he make her laugh, even now, amid so much bleakness? The world seemed such a dark place now, devoid of light and music. _'Well,' _she thought, listening to the steady drumming of Leon's heart, _'almost.'_

"Sometimes, I think you're the only one that does." Claire said, a smile curling her lips as she shifted around on the bed. Turning to look into Leon's penetrating blue eyes and tell him everything: how sorry she was, how much she appreciated everything he had done for her, what a good man he was…and froze when she saw him. Jaw dropping, eyes popping wide, the girl almost thought she was starring at an entirely different person.

"You shaved!" Claire exclaimed, reaching up and pressing a hand to one smooth cheek. It had been so long since she'd seen him without a coat of fur obscuring his features. Right then he looked just like the first time she had met him in Raccoon City – well, minus all the bewilderment and terror, he was smiling this time.

"Yeah," Leon said, a smirk turning up the corner of his mouth, "I mean, everyone was teasing me and all. Shit, Barry even said I looked _sixteen_!" Leon's eyes shifted a little, if Claire hadn't known better she would have said he was embarrassed. "Besides, I uh I know you didn't really care for it in the first place so I thought what the hell, you know?" His smirk broadened. "We've all got to make changes right?"

"Oh, Leon," Claire laughed – a real, genuine laugh – and cupped his other smooth, clean-shaven cheek in her hand. She felt tears rolling down her face now but – no – that couldn't be possible. What did she have to cry about? It couldn't have been Leon's gesture. It was just something silly, something ridiculously absurd…and just what she needed.

She remembered before, crying on his bed while he held her around the shoulders, confessing to her that he didn't know what to say to make things better. He still didn't but he knew she didn't like his attempt at a beard and had shed it for her – shed every last hair of it because he thought it might make her happy for a moment. Because he thought it might brighten her face and bring out a laugh instead of a sob. A silly, goofy gesture…and so sweet too, so selfless and thoughtful. Funny, Claire thought, that so much emotion could rest behind such a small thing as shaving.

"Leon," she chortled, pulling his face down towards hers. "Leon, you big dummy." Again she laughed, raising her face up as she pulled his down. Parting her lips slightly, beginning to close her eyes and then he jerked back. He pulled away from her.

"Claire," he said with a heavy, resigned, sigh, "I can't. Please, don't look at me like that I _want _to, God I do. But…I just can't. I have no right."

"No right?" Claire asked, looking up him as if she had just been flogged. No _right_? The man was impossible! "You have every right Leon. _We _have every right."

"No, we don't." He countered all too quickly. "You deserve…you deserve more than I can give, Claire."

"Stop it, Leon." She said, fixing her eyes on his and glad that he gave a small start. Her eyes could cut like daggers when she wanted them too. "Back in the hospital I heard every word you said and you have to know that I feel the same way. Just look in my eyes and you can see it. Stop this whole code of honor thing you have, I don't care what you think I _deserve._ I know what _I _want Leon. Nothing you say is going to change how _I _feel. They're _my _feelings and _my _choices. Not yours. Do you understand that?"

"Claire-" Leon said, turning his gaze down and resting a hand over one of hers. She thought for a moment he might try and pry her hands free from his cheeks – and Lord help the man if he did – but he made no such move. She cut him off again before he could speak another word.

"Leon," She said, turning his face back up so his blue eyes met her gray ones. "Listen to me. Please. For so long now we've had to resist what we wanted," her eyes were wide now, deep gray pools as big as saucers, "we _had _to. We had to because of Umbrella, because of all the things we were keeping inside, because of…because of a _hundred _things! All that's over now though. It's all gone and behind us. We're free now, don't you understand that, free to go after the things we want." She sighed and dropped her gaze but only for a moment. It was getting harder and harder to meet those vibrant blue eyes, just starring at her quietly, unreadable. "You know how I feel, Leon, but what do you want?"

Claire looked up, saw those beautiful eyes waver, felt the hand over her own tense and knew, just _knew _he was going to push her away again. _'Oh, Leon you thick headed dummy. If you so much as say…' _Instead, the young officer said nothing, rather his hand wrapped even tighter around her own and then, with a kind of viciousness, his lips seized her own. Passion overcame surprise and Claire returned the embrace two-fold, letting her tongue slip between his teeth and battle for supremacy. A fight neither one of them cared whether they won or lost.

Warmth – the invigorating, pulsing warmth of life – surged through Claire, heating her blood as much as Leon's kisses. It was a thrilling sensation, being warm after feeling encased in ice for so long and she gasped into his mouth as the flames of life turned her crystalline prison to water and the water to vapor. It was like being reborn again.

Claire felt fresh tears spill from beneath her closed eyelids but there was no grief in these tears. No pain or fear, only the joy of freedom. She moved closer to the man sharing the bed with her, their lips meeting again and again. While Claire was uncertain whether it was Leon's fingers that began lifting at the hem of her shirt or her own she was very certain of one thing. If the man stopped, even for a second, she would find his pocketknife again and stab _him _with it.

Author's Note: Here you are my Readers, the next update. Stay tuned for the conclusion of this story later next week. Also, for those of you reading Three Days In A Nightmare as well, another update should be up for you this week as well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please read and review when you get a chance, it's your reviews that keep me inspired and writing.


	8. Come Clean

**Chapter 8: Come Clean**

With a pillow secured tightly beneath his head Leon lay starring up at the ceiling in his darkened bedroom wondering if what had just transpired was real or imagined; truth or some wondrous fiction. Of course, the ceiling contained no answers and the crumpled portion of the mattress next to him certainly hinted in one direction more than the other but still it was hard for the young officer to believe that what had just happened was nothing more than a dream. It all seemed too good to be true.

As with all things that seem too good to be true Leon was able to only remember snippets of the event for the whole thing was too great to comprehend in its entirety. He could remember lusty moans and loving words drifting into his ears. He could remember the reassuring feel of warm flesh pressed up against his own, threatening to turn his blood to fire. He could remember the sensation of fingers twined between his and pleasure like none he could recall. He could remember making love to Claire Redfield.

Even thinking it made the young man shift uncomfortably on the bed, not because he was ashamed of the act but simply because the act itself seemed too impossible. Never would he have thought such a thing could occur even if they were both to live until one hundred.

'_Still,' _Leon wondered, tucking his hands behind his head, '_was it the right thing to do? She said it was, that it's what we wanted – and it was – but still, did I say something to force her into it? She was so fragile before that maybe I just suggested something unconsciously and she took it the wrong way or something. If it's what she wanted then why isn't she still here, sleeping next to me? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt here while we were…were…shit, why does everything have to be so freaking complicated?'_

It was useless to wonder about such things, Leon knew, but that did nothing to quell his worries. He had even gone so far as to ask Claire the questions swirling in his mind as she lay beneath him, her hand squeezing his with surprising strength. Was she sure about this? Was he hurting her? Each new query had just been met with a smile and a joke about how he never should have gotten involved in police work: he simply couldn't focus. At one point Claire had even suggested he should have become a lumberjack, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Despite all her smiles and quips Leon still could not shake the feeling that he had seen something else hidden behind her gray eyes and the last time she had hidden something from him it had led to a trip to the emergency room.

Light filtering in from beneath the bathroom door clued the officer in to Claire's location, as did the sounds of cabinets banging open and shut but Leon still had enough honor not to go barging in on a young woman while she used the facilities – no matter how concerned he was for her. While he might have been able to control his body from leaping up out of bed and finding out what was going on the officer could do nothing to keep his thoughts from wandering. What was she doing in there? There was nothing all that harmful in his medicine cabinet aside from a half-empty bottle of Aspirin and some Dristan he used when ever a cold struck him but then again he had woken up and she was already in there – who could know what she had done while he was still asleep.

Shaking his head Leon tried to silence the nagging whispers. No, he had to trust her, now more than ever. He had to trust her not to hurt herself…what a thing to do. He couldn't possibly worry over her every second of every day. Leon nodded to himself – it was the honest to goodness truth and he would just have to – the sound of water filling the bathtub suddenly caused him to spring from under the sheets and knock at the bathroom door. A hot bath was a good way to relax – and a good place to cut your wrist again too.

"Claire?" He said tentatively, pressing his ear against the door. The sound changed then, going from the steady rush of water into the tub to the fierce spray of the showerhead. Leon breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah." Came the timid reply on the other side as Claire cracked open the door and Leon could see she had draped herself in his bathrobe. The garment was obviously two sizes too big but it did nothing to diminish the gentle beauty of her face. She smiled up at him then, a sad smile, almost apologetic. She must have known he had been worrying. "I…I just wanted to get clean."

Leon nodded, smiling back. He knew what she meant. Over the past couple days they had both been forced to come to grips with things they had never before been aware of but especially Claire. She had lost her brother to a horrific illness, the one person in her life whom she had admired more than anyone, had thought invincible lay dead now. Grief and fear had formed a blanket over her, nearly suffocating the girl and leading her spiraling down a path that had almost led to her own death. He had been able to pull her back from the brink of that precipice – or so she claimed – but that in turn had only led to another challenge for the young woman. She had to come to terms with her feelings for him and vice versa.

_'We made it though. We're survivors and that's what we do. We make it.' _ Looking into those misty gray eyes Leon knew it for truth. There was a great deal of anguish and pain in Claire's eyes – there probably always would be – but there was something new there, something he hadn't seen in a long while. The old Redfield determination was back, a swirling storm that seemed able to brush anything aside. No matter what was thrown in her path the storm in Claire's eyes said she would withstand it. There was pain there, yes, but it was no longer her master. Claire was in control. She was a survivor.

So much had still gone wrong though, good had come from it in the end, true, but so much disaster had crashed down around them. Like the survivors they were though they had pushed aside the rubble of that disaster and emerged back out into the sunlight once more but they were caked in the dust – all the fear, all the loss, all the worry – of that calamity and it made Leon's skin itch. Yes, he knew exactly how the young woman felt. He had felt that way after Raccoon City, after the Umbrella HQ in Germany. It was sickeningly familiar.

"I understand." He said and turned back to his room when he felt her soft fingers close around his shoulder.

"Wait." Claire said, her voice as gentle as her touch. "I…I don't want to be alone. Not anymore."

Again, Leon smiled. He knew that feeling too. "You aren't, Claire. You aren't."

Within moments the couple stood beneath the jet of the shower, tendrils of steam curling up their exposed forms as if trying to clothe them. Warm water coursed down their skin, matting hair to their heads and stinging eyes briefly when one of the pair happened to look up. Leon was hardly of any of it though. He could not hear the sound of the water or feel its caress all that existed was him self and Claire breathing slowly against his chest. There was nothing else in that moment.

Perhaps at some other time he would have found something lewd, something sexual in the girl's nudity but not now. All he felt now was mystification at what he had done to deserve a woman so beautiful and pure as Claire Redfield pressed up against his chest, her arms twined around his back. She was like a sculpture, one that God had chosen to breathe life into and make real, a piece of living art and yet she was still more than that. Leon decided to simply give up trying to describe her. There were simply no words to describe Claire Redfield.

Once, what seemed an eternity ago, while on a plane ride to Utah with David Trapp and the other rebel S.T.A.R.S. Leon had thought a great deal about his feelings towards the younger Redfield. For as long as he could remember the officer had always thought that wanting to be with another okay but _needing _to be with someone? That seemed somehow unhealthy. Need implied compulsion and compulsion implied a loss of free will, of choice and so he had done everything in his power to keep their friendship as just that – because Leon was scared he needed Claire.

Only now, with the girl cradled in his arms, did he realize what a fool he had been. Need was far from unhealthy…it was how love worked. You could not _want _to be with someone unless you needed him or her on some level.

Leon needed Claire on many levels. He needed her for comfort, for support, for the assurance that she was the only person out there who could keep him from getting a big head. Was that really as terrifying as he thought it would be? No, because she needed him for all the same reasons, _wanted _him for all the same reasons: no free will had been lost, no choice had been sacrificed. Want and need could sometimes be the same thing…it was just how love worked.

"Let's just stay like this." Claire muttered against him, stirring Leon from his musings. "Forever, I mean."

He laughed hard, shoulders shaking. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. I get all pruney pretty easy. Yeah, I know, it's gross."

"I don't care." Claire sighed, leaning more heavily against the young officer. "We can get gross together."

"What would we do for food though?" Leon grinned, not meaning to make it into a game but unable to help himself now that he had started. "Forever is a long time to go without eating."

"We'll install a garbage disposal." She countered as he ran a hand through her hair, smoothing back the wet locks. "If they could figure it out on Seinfeld I'm sure we wouldn't have much trouble getting it to work."

Leon found himself laughing again it felt so good to laugh after crying for so long. There was something pure and wonderful about being able to hold someone close and joke freely without a care for anything. There was something clean about it.

"Leon," Claire said and this time her tone was serious. Unconsciously the young man found his arms tightening around the girl's slender form.

"Yeah?"

"This…this can't have a happy ending, can it?" She replied, looking up at him with those misty gray eyes. Leon felt his heart breaking as he looked into their swirling depths, so many emotions stirred in those dark clouds. She had seen too much. Far too much.

"A happy ending," Leon repeated the words, mulling them over in his head as they rolled off his tongue. Claire's brother, her only remaining family, the man that had saved her from certain death in Antarctica was gone. She'd never hear his voice again, never see him smile…never joke with him again. He was gone forever and there was not a thing either of them could do to change that. Could she ever be said to be truly happy again? "No." He said at last and it pained him to do so. "No, it can't, but that doesn't mean that it can't have a _good _ending. Sometimes we try to hard to be happy. We need to try just to be content with what we have. With the people in our lives."

Claire looked up at him then and amazingly she smiled. With the water streaming through her hair, down her face, she looked radiant. No, Leon thought, it had nothing to do with the water.

"That doesn't sound too hard." Claire's smile widened and she laughed. "You should write a book or something."

"Me?" Leon chuckled, pulling Claire in tight against his chest once more. "No way. I failed English."

For a long while – two hours perhaps – the pair of survivors stayed planted where they were, wrapped safely in each others arms, allowing the steaming flow from the shower to wash away the sins of the past; peel away layers of pain and grief, anxiety and fear. Together they came clean of the demons they held within, of the nightmares that plagued their minds and souls, letting all the filth of the years to run down the drain beneath them.

This is where the tale of the survivors ends and by no means is it a happy ending. The world is too cruel and harsh a place for any happy endings to exist but there is still joy and peace in the end of their story. Together they have shrugged of the evil of the past; together they have changed by washing themselves clean of regret and failure. Together they have found solace in one another – a bastion against darkness and fear. Together they have found love – an emotion stronger than any other humans are capable of. Together they have survived.

Author's Note: Here's the last chapter as promised my Readers. I hope you've enjoyed this fic and will continue to read Three Days In A Nightmare, which will have an update soon. Read and review when you get a chance, it's your feedback that keeps me inspired and reading. Thank you, enjoy.


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